Balancing Hindsight or Foresight
by Lil Nezumi
Summary: Expect the following story type - A "What if", AU/AR and Char. Ooc, still magical world - Sent to prison upon the death of the Dark Lord, the Hero is bound by the ancient edifice on an island in the middle of nowhere. Laws that came into effect days before the final battle bound his battle actions and the rest of his life there... that is until the day he died.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **Balancing Hindsight or Foresight

**Characters:** Harry P., others (pairings as they come, potential slash)

_**MY Inspiration:**_ Harry Potter (all media forms), ffnet story "Curse of Fate" by Mistress Nika, multiple Harry is a prisoner of Azkaban fanfiction stories

**Disclaimer:** This is my standard disclaimer; I don't own anything in regards to the sources of _**MY**__**Inspiration**_. All publically recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

All the characters, worlds, base concepts or general ideas are just a bit food for the writing bug. This story is pure fiction and is in no way meant to copy or reflect real life, events or people, should this happen then obviously it is pure coincidence.

**Warning: **See author profile for preferred pairing type.

**Author's Note:** Super Harry story, back-in-time-type. No sequels projected. This story assumes that the readers have read at least the first four novels for this series or are at least familiar with the movie versions. However everything changes in for this story anyway, not compliant with the last three HP novels.

**Summary:** Expect the following story type - A "What if", AU/AR and Char. Ooc, still magical world - Sent to prison upon the death of the Dark Lord, the Hero is bound by the ancient edifice on an island in the middle of nowhere. Laws that came into effect days before the final battle bound his battle actions and the rest of his life there... that is until the day he died.

**Speech Legend: **(This is the standard by which I write my stories and therefore you will not see this repeated in future chapters)

"Normal"  
'_Thoughts_'  
(…Sign language/Other Language…)  
(..._Parseltongue_...)

Harry - James - Potter - Harry - James - Potter

**CH 1**

Harry - James - Potter - Harry - James - Potter

It has been commonly known as a truth that some witches and wizards can live long lives with the aid of devices. It has also been commonly known that some witches and wizards just live long lives because of the magic that they can wield. At three hundred and eighty-seven years, Harry Potter knew this was actually a fact in his case. However the length of his life didn't mean anything to him since the quality of his life was quite poor.

He wasn't even twenty years of age before he'd been thrown into Azkaban prison for defeating an evil menace known as the Dark Lord Voldemort. All reasons being some new Ministry Law that was to be specifically applied against those that had trained in Dark Arts to defend against it. This was supported by a supposed '_proven_' magical theory research paper showing that those witches or wizards that had a certain level of accessible magic and wielded Dark Magic would turn to the Dark Arts and pose a veritable danger to their entire society.

That theory had been written, proved and provided to the Wizengamot a full year after the return of the Dark Lord. Who slowly appeared after that third Tri-Wizard task that the young fourth year Hogwarts student, Harry Potter, had been forced to participate in. The paper had been tested, researched and deemed conclusive by the Department of Mysteries, just days prior to the final defeat of the Darkest Dark Lord that the United Kingdom Wizarding World had ever seen. It was in place just in time, many thought, as Harry Potter the once '_Boy-Who-Lived_' had been brought before the courts, after his magic had been evaluated to be at that dangerous level, sentenced and then thrown into prison.

Betrayal was quick to happen in strangers, but slow in his friends. However time eroded good feelings and eventually his friends too had abandoned him. Living as long as he had was also a guarantee that he had been able to read every obituary, of every person that he'd ever known. He didn't care about their children, since he never knew them.

The very last one to live was an extremely old, nearly blind woman named Luna Longbottom, who predicted that with the death of Harry Potter their world would end and that a new one would take its place. She'd visited him one last time before she died and had told him only two words.

"Change everything!"

Harry Potter had blinked and replied, "If opportunity presents itself."

She cackled at that and then left the prison. Four days after that she died.

Harry may have been placed in prison, but he was also the Head of two Magical Families. Unfortunately he'd not been smart or even guided in his life to create Wills or anything related to disposition of assets and the Ministry in dire need of funds, seized everything.

A third of the money went to Hogwarts, for thanks. The '_authoritative research paper_', that outlined a preventative measure against those that wielded dark magic, had been written by one Albus Dumbledore, former Headmaster of Hogwarts. The old man was lucky he died before that law came into effect or he'd have been arrested too.

With the last of his '_old_' crowd gone, Harry felt that it would be difficult to live. However unknown to anyone that had ever known him, he'd been bonded to three house-elves. That was one of the conditions to his imprisonment. It was like those conditions of old when lords or kings were imprisoned, they still access to many things. He was permitted books and half-way decent food, if he had a house-elf bonded to him and able to bring what he needed for the duration of his stay.

Kreacher, Winky and Dobby, all ensured that he received everything he needed to keep his mind alive and his magic active. He'd been placed in a tower far away from the other prisoners so that his magic would not supposedly affect them, since he was considered to be a powerful Dark Wizard now. They'd done everything they could for him or so they believed.

Harry had been prepared to travel the world, but his hidden three level travel trunk carried, all magical items and books that could keep him entertained for the time of his imprisonment. However, around the time he turned one hundred and seventy seven, the last of his house-elves had passed one. Only one child was born of them and that child too had passed on without producing another. He never ordered them to reproduce. It had been Winky's idea to bring forth a child, but since they passed he'd been considerably alone and lonely.

A lack of their chatter or even half-decent food, had taken its toll. It still took him about a hundred and fifty more years to die. But before that tragic or rejoiced event occurred, he'd prepared an unknown ritual that would not allow any Dementor to have his escaping soul for lunch.

The ritual consisted of many runes, a bit of blood-letting and a cremation spell. No body, nothing to suck a soul from. That was his reasoning for doing it and it was quite a good idea too. But the spell was untried, since Harry had been the one to invent it while he was in prison. He'd written a lot of spells in his hours of solitude. He was never limited by Magical Law of what can and can't be done, and since he was in prison, he'd never been fully trained to know anything about magical limits.

His trunk full of books was shrunk and hidden on his person, as some of the books were future references of magical and muggle '_industrial_' machinery integration or else written in a language that only he could read. All of his is private journals and spell creations were in the trunk. There were also numerous works, which he compiled to improve the faulty path that the Wizarding World had trekked out onto during the first fifty years that he'd been imprisoned. Those books were not going to be of value to anyone, anyway.

The final word was said and his body burst into flames, not unlike a phoenix on their burning day. The cell and tower that he'd been placed in erupted like a torch in the night and all were completely destroyed.

Magic knew the old man and knew the child he had been. It didn't permit the soul to die, but sent it where it was needed to change the world...again.

Harry - James - Potter - Harry - James - Potter

**TBC...**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** See chapter one all warnings, notes etc... or personal profile for preferred pairing type. From here on this will not be repeated.

Harry - James - Potter - Harry - James - Potter

**CH 2**

Harry - James - Potter - Harry - James - Potter

Number four Privet Drive, Little Whinging Surrey, just one of the many suburbs of London, but in there, there lived a magic hating family. That family really hated magic and most of all they hated their blood nephew that had been forced to reside with them because of magic. Unfortunately some things were going to change and they would not like magic any better because of it.

A nine year old boy, bleeding profusely from his right arm was lying in what had been his room for most of his short life. It was a cupboard under the stairs. It was supposed to be a broom cupboard, but this was his room. The cut on his arm had been made by his vicious, bullying cousin, who'd been praised by his doting parents for successful defending himself against the '_Freak_'.

The old, white-haired, and aged Harry Potter that had blown the Azkaban Tower suddenly found himself looking down at the body of the boy. It was as though they were mirrored. The boy sensed his presence and opened his eyes and smiled.

"Have you come to take me away to heaven," the child that was also Harry Potter asked him.

"No," the old Harry said. "I'm not sure how I came to be here, since I'm quite certain that my body is supposed to have passed away."

"I'm dying too," the little Harry said.

The old Harry nodded. He remembered this incident only his cut was across the arm, not along it. The cut, just a hairs-breadth either way, and he'd have been in the same situation as the boy was now. He looked at his arm and the boy noticed the direction of the gaze.

"Almost like yours," he said. "I didn't move fast enough cause Aunt had hit me in the head on the same day."

"She normally doesn't," the old Harry said.

"How did you know," the little Harry asked.

"I'm you," the older Harry said.

"Magic then," the little one sighed. "I know about magic, but no one that I've seen who seem to know me has ever helped. I think they were magic because Aunt didn't like them. Can you help me?"

"I don't know," Harry replied. "I was in a magical prison before suddenly showing up here."

"My magic can't fix this," the younger one said. "My scar doesn't like it either."

The older one pulled his hair back exposing the infamous scar, showing the boy the singular proof that they were nearly one and the same. "I know what it is that pains you."

The boy's eyes widened and he smiled. "I knew it was magic. Since you're older than me, can you help me out?" The child reached out to the floating man's hand and asked, "Did I do something bad to go to prison?"

"No we did not." The old Harry said, surprised that they could touch briefly before their hands melded. "You just weren't prepared for any of it and they were scared of you and your magic." He couldn't pull his hand away from their blending.

The young one tugged and they merged some more, up to the elbow now. He was able to see part of the life that the old man had led, including how he ended up in prison. "They'll do the same to me," the boy said firmly. "If I live through this night, they'll eventually do the same to me." He stared into the near blind eyes of his old self and said, "Don't let them do it again."

"We could join further, but you're so young..."

Little Harry's lips were slowly turning blue from the blood loss. "If we come together, I know we can beat them," he supposed. "Could we merge? Greater is the sum and all that?"

The old Harry looked at their joined hands. He couldn't move and felt that something odd was about to happen because of this strange situation. He told the boy truthfully, "We may have no choice."

The little boy's face hardened and he said, "Good. Do whatever you need to do now. Save us both. If your body is truly dead, join me in mine and live for me. I'm just so tired. Do what you must, please?"

Harry could feel the desperation in the boy's magic to live. He'd always believed that magic could do great things. It could also do plenty of evil in the wrong and greedy hands, but it could definitely do great things too. He let himself fall onto the body, as that was the only motion he could do with the merged link they had.

Suddenly the old man in the body of the boy looked up and saw the ghostly figure of the child. The child nodded and said, "I thought it might be like this. Only one can live in the same time and space. I'm taking yours and going to heaven, for that I'm sorry."

"Don't be," the old man said with a gentle forgiving smile. "You'll get to see Mum and Dad. You'll get to tell them the truth." His magic being considerably stronger called the blood back into the small body. It stitched the wound closed and banished the bacteria that would cause infection. In fact it healed all fractures, cuts and other aches and pains that the child's body had. However depth of that wound left a reminding reddish scar.

The boy nodded and said, "I knew that you could do that." He was fading fast and then he said, "Don't repeat your life. You never can do things the same way twice you know."

"I know," Harry whispered to the cobwebs and spiders. He occluded his mind and organized his thoughts to hide his future knowledge. His world was gone after all.

'_I will not make the same mistakes twice,_' he thought. '_First thing is to find out if these Dursleys are getting paid for my care like the last time or not._' He closed his eyes on that and fell asleep.

Harry - James - Potter - Harry - James - Potter

The following morning Petunia knocked loudly on the door to her nephew's room. "Up," she said loudly. "Get up, Boy and make breakfast for my little Dudders."

"Do it yourself," Harry said, his voice was muffled behind the door he refused to open.

Petunia was furious. She opened the door quickly and saw him sitting cross-legged in the middle of his made bed. "What did you just say, Boy?"

Harry looked up at her, his eyes glowed with magic and he said, "Do it yourself, woman. I'm a child. I am not your servant nor am I your slave. Today you will make the breakfast for your family, send them on their merry way and then you and I are going to have a little chat. If they ask why, tell them that the '_Freak_' is ill and you don't need them catching my germs. Now leave me be."

Petunia couldn't help the shudder that ran down her back, as her body and mind did the bidding of a nine year old and fully capable Wandless Wizard. There was a reason she never wanted anything to do with the boy's people and that was because she knew they were dangerous.

Harry came out of the cupboard after he knew his Uncle Vernon and bratty cousin, Dudley, were out of the house. He pulled out a sheet of good parchment paper that had been part of a fancy stationary set that he knew his mother had given to his aunt. He wrote a few things down on it and then read the contents to this Aunt.

"_I the undersigned Petunia Dursley, blood family and legal guardian to Harold James Potter, do hereby give permission for my nephew, Harold James Potter aka Harry Potter aka the Boy-Who-Lived, to have full access and total managerial rights to all of his Family's Accounts and Estate, effective immediately, in accordance to Merlin's Inheritance Law of 312 A.D.. Permission is granted for Harold James Potter to take over, maintain and make any decision related to, said Family Accounts and all Estates related to or are under the purview of the Potter Family. Henceforth no other individual is permitted access other than Harold James Potter aka Harry Potter aka the Boy-Who-Lived._

_Extenuating circumstances as follows:_

**_Current Guardian:_**

_Blood Relation - Dursley, Petunia  
__Status - Muggle and unable to access or manage accounts for above mentioned magical child_

**_Magical Guardians:_**

_Godfather - Black, Sirius  
__Status - Incarcerated in Azkaban Prison, Cell 1357_

_Godmother - Longbottom, Alice  
__Status - Inpatient at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Malady and Injuries, Ward No. 49_

_No other Magical Guardians listed on file._

_All of the above are incapable of teaching, informing or guiding above mentioned young Wizard to reach full magical potential. No provisions have been made for any alternative teacher, professor, mentor or magical guardian._

_Young Wizard to continue residing at current guardian's residence until entry into a Magical School and from thence alternative arrangements may be made at the discretion of the above mentioned young Wizard._"

"Sign here, initial here and here," Harry pointed out on the paper and then he said. "Put a drop of your blood here." He'd drawn a circle in the parchment paper next to her full signature.

She baulked at the blood bit, but then moved woodenly to get a pin from her sewing basket. She pricked her finger and let that single drop fall onto the paper. "Why," she asked with a shudder. "Why are you doing this?"

"I want to find out if you truly are not getting anything for my keep here. I need to see if you've been lying to me," Harry told her. "I need fifty quid in order to take a cab to London and I'll be back sometime tomorrow morning."

"We haven't been received any money for your care, you Freak," she said, completely convinced that that was the truth. "Whatever you had me sign doesn't mean a thing since your parents were broke! We are barely making ends meet here."

"It doesn't matter," Harry said, standing up and going to the telephone. He placed his call and a cabbie was on their way. "I still need to check it out and be sure before I do anything further."

"What...," Petunia paused and then continued. "What do you mean?"

"It's just that I find it difficult to believe that you can't afford a bare twenty quid of second hand clothing that fits me," Harry said. "You've just handed me fifty without a thought. Twenty quid would have been enough to clothe me in something less questionable than Dudley's oversized cast-offs. They're useful for outdoor work, but hardly fitting for school you know. People still talk about it, even if you're too far away to hear what they are saying." He looked out of the window and turned back to her, with the magic making his eyes glow eerily said, "Cab's here. See you tomorrow Aunt Petunia. Just hope that I find nothing."

Harry - James - Potter - Harry - James - Potter

**TBC...**


	3. Chapter 3

**CH 3**

Harry - James - Potter - Harry - James - Potter

Goblins were a hardy people that have had the stranglehold privilege of operating one of the most secure facilities in the Wizarding World, the Gringotts Bank. It was a bank that catered to Witches and Wizards, plus various other magical sentient creatures and it had branches all around the world linked to this centralized location. It was the '_Greenwich_' of Banks, of the various political Wizarding Worlds.

These creatures, as mentioned, were hardy. They were not a people prone to being surprised all that often. Unfortunately they did tend to be on the greedy side of things and profit for them is a key component to their livelihood. They did not like spanners being thrown into their well oiled cart tracks, so when children appear in the banks to make meager deposits or withdrawals they were not always in the best of moods to aid the inquisitive tykes.

The guards at the doors noted the entrance of a boy with a dark Muggle ball cap with the word '_Grunnings_' written in white, sitting low on his head and second hand patched Muggle clothing of worn jeans and faded t-shirt. Nothing about the child was remarkable other than the fact that they could sense the magic radiating from under the boy's skin. The two at the doors just shrugged and continued their duty by watching the people that entered and left the bank.

The free goblin at the counter was surprised when he was suddenly faced with a child looking at him in the eyes. The boy was floating off of the ground, as though he'd been levitated by someone. He was further surprised by the piece of parchment paper he'd just been given.

He blinked and then called out, "Griphook." A small goblin appeared in a courier uniform. "Take this young Wizard to the Estate Accounts Offices." He said something in Gobledegook to the goblin. He then handed the paper back to the boy and said, "Please follow him."

"Thank you," Harry said politely. He lowered himself to the floor and followed the smallest goblin to the offices monitoring the Accounts related to large Estates, like the one belonging to the magical family named Potter.

"Wait here please," Griphook said, while he went into the main chamber.

Harry leaned up against the wall, one foot braced against it and looking down at the floor. He let his magic create an invisible one-way viewer through his cap brim so that he could see all that was happening around him. He looked up quickly, as the goblin approached him, startling the creature.

"Follow me please," Griphook said. "The Manager of the Po..."

Harry coughed loudly and shook his head, saying in perfected goblin language (...You needn't announce to the world that I'm here. It is not time for me to be in this World after all. I shall see you some other time, I wish you gold Griphook...)

(...Master Potter...) The older goblin behind the desk called his attention as the younger one was still stunned by the casual blessing and hadn't moved. (...We did not expect to see for quite some time...)

(...I'm sure of that...) Harry said showing his teeth aggressively. (...I'm here to take in an accounting of all transactions that have been occurring in relation to my estates and properties. I'm not leaving until I'm fully satisfied that all is in order...)

(...That will take some time...) The older goblin said. (...You may wish to retain the services of one of our younger lot in order to do some running for you...)

"Very well," Harry said in English. He looked at the rooted Griphook and asked, "Are you free to earn gold?"

"Always," the younger goblin said with a grin. That was always the answer that any right thinking goblin would give, especially if money was talking.

"Good," Harry said. He looked at the older goblin and said, "I will rent the side room for the next eighteen hours at three galleons an hour. Bring me all Potter Estate files and bring me my parents' Wills as well as the Potter Signet Ring that's required for my use in political and familial correspondence matters."

"Yes sir, Young Master Potter," the slightly older goblin said.

"Griphook," Harry turned to the younger goblin. "Get me an unemployed house-elf, preferably female and bring her here. Oh and Griphook," he said getting the younger goblin's attention. "It doesn't matter if she's a hybrid, she just needs to be more house-elf than other." The little goblin bowed and left the room.

"This way Mr. Potter," the older goblin said with a fairly large file in his hands. He handed it to the young human and was surprised when the magic of the Estate accepted the conditions of transfer, making the file weightless for the boy to carry. The boy was not emancipated, but now had full authorizing control of his Estate. No one could access it on his behalf after this day. He grinned widely when he realized that whoever had been in control before was not going to be happy about it.

"Here is the ring," the goblin said and handed over a small magical box. It was a box that required the boy's blood in order to prove that he was who he said he was. Again the goblin was surprised that the boy knew what to do.

Harry allowed the box to take one drop of his blood in order to unlock it. Inside he was surprised to find three rings and then he smiled softly. "My parents' wedding bands are in here," he said. The goblin nodded and confirmed that they can merge with the Potter Family Ring. "Excellent," the boy said. "It will be like they are with me."

He hissed an unknown spell and merged the three with magic born of his family's quirky genetics. He knew that his father might be rolling about in his grave to know that his wife had been the magical child of a squib of a squib of... well that's the picture, until someone with the rare gift of Parseltongue had merged with her line.

The three rings came together and the logo or family shield changed. It usually did these days with the way that the Family lines go and the arrogance of personal shields or banners became the style. What was once a large Griffon with a sword in one claw and olive branch in the other; now changed to a coiled snake ready to strike opposite a rampant Griffon on scales of a balance, with a long upright sword forming the stand for the balancing plates. The motto changed from '_Truth in Peace for All_'', to '_Balanced Justice_'.

This was something that the older goblin had not been expecting either, nor had he expected the commanding tone in the high-pitched voice of the human child. "I hate to impose, but do you have clean piece of parchment and a writing implement so that I may use in order to make some notations while I wait for Griphook to return," Harry said. "I need to make a few changes to these documents."

"Of course," the goblin said, giving the boy a scrap of paper and a worn out pencil. "That should do you until you can pay for something better."

Harry just grinned and said, "Of course."

Griphook came back a short while later with a small female house-elf hybrid with some unknown nature attached. She wasn't welcome in many communities and had been trying once again to apply for placement in a Wizarding Family. "This is Rose," the little goblin said. "She cannot speak, but can understand English, Gobbledegook, German and French."

"Good," Harry said. "Now I need you to take out two hundred galleons and get me parchment paper, a brand new ledger in black and silver with my coats of arms and motto." He handed the goblin a copy of his Family's new coat of arms and motto. "It will need to be new in order to link it to all old ones on file and will become the Master Ledger for my family, make sure that it's a paper growing one. Also with that money get me some stationary watermarked with the same coat of arms and plain stationary for notes. Please include varied writing implements and the appropriate coloured waxes for sealing. Come back after you have them in hand."

"Yes, young Master," Griphook said. This day was turning out to be an interesting one and since the boy said that he'd be here for about eighteen hours, the young goblin hoped it would be a very profitable one for him.

Harry turned to Rose and said, "I don't like the fact that you cannot speak, so we will both learn sign language in order to communicate better, unless you already know how?" The house-elf shook her head. "All right, since you are a hybrid I do not have the same expectation from you or your magic as I would a true house-elf. Now tell me the truth, do you need to be Family Bonded like house-elves."

The House-elf looked at him, scared of his reaction, but he'd asked for the truth and she couldn't lie in the face of this potentially new and young Master. She shook her head, '_No_'.

"Good," Harry said, which startled her. "I can hire you under an extended servant bond that can be modified as I grow older. You'll work half-days for now and get one full day off every two weeks to start. Get a decent uniform, no tea-towels please. If you don't have an idea for a proper uniform, then I'll have to create one for you."

Rose looked at him with longing in her eyes. She nodded and hoped that he'd understand that she wanted a uniform created by her new employer.

He tilted his head and nodded, "All right. For now we'll do the bond. This will be a permanent situation without a condition for dismissal and you'll be earning a pay too, non-negotiable, understood."

She nodded and listened wide-eyed as he hissed the bonding spell with all conditions he stated to her. Once done she had a fancy band of silver and black runes on her upper arms to indicate that she was a bonded elf under the old form. She smiled at him and went to pack up her meager belongings as ordered.

Griphook returned with the items that Harry had asked for and then waited for his next set of orders. "Are you good with extracting inventory information from the vaults without opening or entering them?"

"It is my strongest ability," the young goblin said proudly.

"Good," Harry replied. "Take the change you have from the purchases and get several a high quality drawing books with growing pages. Use those, in order to get the inventory names and images of the items per vault. Do all Potter vaults for the rest of my time here. I want one book per level of vaults. I will not ask you to exhaust yourself. Take your time and do not make mistakes. Rose will accompany you to ensure that you rest and eat. Actually take out enough money for Rose go and equip us with art supplies. I prefer pencils and watercolour, get something that you prefer to use. You'll have a lot of free time on your hands so I want you to learn painting or drawing. Also get us some sign language books to learn from, you might be lucky in finding them at the hospital stores instead of a conventional book shop. Take this note book to write down your requests to the shopkeepers."

She curtsied and waited for Griphook to return with the money.

Hours later, as the ledgers were merged and the information per vault had been matched slowly. Harry heaved a sigh and rubbed his temples. '_Bastard,_' he thought. '_That unmitigated meddling old bastard_.'

He sighed and then looked at everything that had been slowly coming together. This was something that he'd promised himself that he'd do if ever he had the chance. He'd review all transactions against his Family's Estate to see how deeply he'd been betrayed. '_He had the Wills opened and read, but then had them re-sealed without taking any action to the stated requests within. Remus Lupin could have used that money, instead of being beholden…_'

Harry shook his head and understood why the werewolf had to be grateful for the morsels of human kindness and the privilege of being treated like a human. He'd done the same the first time he'd entered the Wizarding World. He'd fed his soul on the emotions that others seemed to give him and as the boy that he once was he'd been pathetically grateful for it. He'd believed them when they said that they cared about him, but reading those Wills were nearly too much.

Harry looked at Rose and Griphook and said, "I can't even begin to think about how to start the process for these without alerting that old meddler about it."

"If I may," Griphook said. He coughed in slight embarrassment because everyone's attention was turned to him, but he continued. "Since they have already been opened and reviewed, then technically they can be acted upon without further alerting the person that opened them."

Harry grinned and asked, "Really?" He received a nod and then he said something that shocked the goblins in the room. "I want Gringotts responsible for ensuring that the bequests take place, but I also want the parchment informing these people about them to be spelled in such a way that they can't talk about it what they've received, from whom or why." He paused and then said, "If they want speak to someone, just send them a pat little reply stating that for the continued security of the estate, no one can communicate with anyone in direct relation, until further notice."

"If they want to know why the Wills were acted upon at this time, then just say that it one of the conditions of the Estate that a mourning period had to be observed before anything could happen with the Wills. Also, since no one can talk about it, then it seems to be reasonable to me, that anything bequeathed to this person," he pointed out Albus Dumbledore's name. "Well he does not need to receive anything until I decide to comply with the Wills, after all if he'd actually wanted these items or the money then he'd have honoured the Wills when he read them, no?"

The goblins all grinned ferally and agreed to do as requested. They knew how that old man worked. Children that were to attend his school on scholarships were denied because he withheld the funds, unless the child belonged to a family on the Light side of magic. The balance in magic was faltering because of it.

The time was getting late and there still quite a few vaults to go through. He looked around and said, "I need to hire a manager for my Estate, one for my accounts and one for my inventory. I need to implement a few things and cancel others, plus I need someone for security on my vaults which will include upgrading them fully and re-keying them all with a master blood key."

"Sir," Griphook said with a gasp. "How did you know about…"

"I've read a few books before coming here," Harry told them. "It's not hard to find information if you know where to generally look for it. What's the matter Griphook?"

"No human has requested that kind of security in the last two hundred years," the small goblin told him in a surprised tone.

"It's true," Ravenbolt confirmed he was there to cross-reference some of the documents, but also there as a security measure since he was strong in Warrior Magics. "We didn't think that the humans remembered that option."

"Of course they wouldn't remember," Harry said. "They're not told about it during their primary education at Hogwarts."

"Have the classes at the school fallen that far," Ravenbolt asked.

"I wouldn't know," Harry said. "First, I'm officially and physically only nine years old going on ten this year and secondly, I live in the Muggle World for the moment."

"We can't review anything related to Hogwarts unless asked," an older goblin said, as he walked into the room having caught only part of the conversation. "I was rather surprised to see this office still active and earning gold. So I came to investigate."

All goblins at the table were surprised when the books and files in front of them closed as they were in the middle of writing or calculating something. They looked at one another wondering who'd done it. Unbeknownst to them Harry had tagged the magic to the goblin that had opened his parents' Wills for reading and re-sealing, in order to find the one that was responsible for allowing Dumbledore unauthorized access to a private family account.

Harry stood up straight and looked down at the goblin. "You are not Welcome here, please leave. I've not hired you."

"Sir," Griphook said in a servile attitude to Harry. "He is in charge of the High Level Accounts at Gringotts. He's High Head Chief…"

"Gorn," the smarmy goblin said, coming forward to hopefully catch the name of the client that was obviously supposed to be a part of his jurisdiction and commission. "High Head Chief, Barroc Gorn."

"Well," Harry paused and then said in a slow tone. His magic took all files and stored them away from the sight of the overly curious goblin. "I think the work we are doing is entirely too menial for someone of your position to bother with, we'll just continue doing our job and when the paid time in this room runs out, we'll just leave."

"It is my duty to oversee large accounts such as…" he paused and double-checked the size of the file on the table. A single folder was there and there was only a courier goblin in the room that he could see. He turned to look at the boy and sniffed. "It's your coin child. Don't take too long as this room is booked for tomorrow afternoon." He left the room disappointed that only a single file was such an inconsequential reason to book the room for a human boy.

Meanwhile back in the room the goblins and the folders were still there in plain sight. Harry sighed and said, "I didn't think that would work. Forgive me for that, but I don't want _that one_ anywhere near my accounts or my Estate."

"Unless you hire someone exclusively, like you want to do," Griphook said with a grin. "He'll believe that he's entitled to access your records."

"Oh I think that I can fix that," Harry said with a feral grin looking at the goblins in the room. They were wide eyed when they realized that he was thinking of hiring them. "Unless all of you are unable to work for a human like me, I would like to hire you, plus I'm open to names for overseers or managers that have integrity and any that will want to listen to my ideas and plans. I want to make a strong management team that will works together with you and me to earn obscene amounts of gold."

"We can, but you'd need to put something in place to protect us and your security," Griphook said. "It'll need to be some kind of binding spell too, since we do like our gold and the amount you have is tempting even if we do have integrity."

"Oh I'm sure that we can increase the amount of gold I have," Harry said. "Besides can you honestly tell me that you enjoy taking snooty Wizards down to their Vaults for chump change? I know that people have been giving me money and have been bequeathing estates to me just because I'm the bloody Boy-Who-Lived." The others nodded and he continued, "Wouldn't you like to see something grand come out of all that, instead of letting it rot?"

"How," Ravenbolt asked. "What do you want to do?"

"First we need to change the security and access to all vaults," Harry said. "So a master blood key is the only way to go, especially when we add any others that are bequeathed to me. It'll ensure that any old access keys that are in existence are denied upon final transfer. Secondly we account for everything and then action the bequests my parents have in their Wills with a few extra security measures in place. I think those two plans are a very good place to start."

"We'll look up a few spells of security and protection, including precedential law among the Gringotts Policies versus the Ministry's ruling on positions that goblins can have," Ravenbolt said.

"I'll only hire those in this room and that have worked for me for the hours I've engaged the use of this room," Harry said. "Let's finish what we've started and then I really need to go shopping for some things before returning to my legal Muggle guardian."

The goblins agreed and worked to the best of their abilities. They knew that this young man had a strange talent to hide them, since that's exactly what happened the third time that High Head Chief came to interrupt the boy. It was the last time since the boy had the audacity, in Gorn's eyes, to complain to a guard who needed to bring in the Head of Gringotts to intervene.

Harry brought out the big-eyed tears of a scared child. "He's come three times," he sniffled. "I'm afraid that he's stalking me or means to harm me. I'm only looking at photos from my mother's vault since this was o..o...only a one-time deal with my…my aunt. She'll not let me come back for a la…l..long time and he's scaring m..mm..me."

"Ah child," the Head of Gringotts said with a wry grin. "I will ensure that he does not disturb you further. Tell me do you think that this goblin should be in charge of your accounts."

"No sir," Harry said, as he sniffled and wiped his nose on the sleeve of his shirt for the effect of an uncultured child. "I don't want him doing anything with my vaults or whatever Estate I may have to my name."

The Head of Gringotts didn't become the Head of the whole bank for nothing. He knew exactly who was in that room and what they were doing. "Very well," then he turned to the other goblin and said. "I believe that your shift has ended this day, Chief Gorn. Take yourself home and quite terrorizing this human child. From this day forth you are no longer permitted to access, review or work on anything related to this child or his Estate, understood."

Gorn looked confused, but agreed verbally, which allowed the banks magic to activate and enforce the conditions. He bowed and left them.

"Thank you sir," Harry said with a polite bow.

"Be sure that they are securely bonded to you before you leave this bank Mr. Potter," the Head of Gringotts said. "I don't want any harm to come to any member of the Goblin Nation, no matter what their chosen jobs are."

"Yes sir," Harry grinned. "Thank you, sir."

"I am Knurl Gringotts," the Head of Gringotts said. "Remember safety, security and above all discretion."

"Yes sir," Harry said with a low bow of respect, however never once looking away from the formidable goblin of the Wizard's bank. The goblin nodded his approval and left.

Harry stood straight and then looked at the others asking, "All right what the hell just happened, because I feel like someone was just fired and hired?"

"That's what happened, Sir," Griphook said. "Gorn can never look into any account associated to the name Potter ever again." The small goblin looked at the other two and said, "We're an official management team now."

"Good," Harry said. "Let's get the plan done. Rose," he called to his new house-elf. "Get us something strong for each of us to remain awake and aware. Something suited to our tastes, but no alcohol. We have quite a lot to do and," he paused to look at the clock on the nearby wall. "According to that we have five more hours available in this room."

In the end Harry managed to hire Griphook for inventory, since the goblin had confessed that he liked sorting the treasure in Vaults. He hired Ravenbolt for vault security.

The third that had been in the room dealing with the accounts, on a purely number based fashion was the only female goblin he'd ever seen in the bank and her name was Snowfyre. It wasn't known, but goblins didn't like their women exposed to humans, so they tended to work far behind the scenes in the bank or not at all.

Both those goblins had been able to recommend a family member as overseeing managers that will become first point of contact for the goblin staff. One was Snowfyre's husband, Hardwood, who'd been fired from his position at the bank for doing the right thing. He paid the price literally with his right eye. She brought him in and Harry only asked one question. "Is my money safe with you to oversee it?"

The goblin looked him in the eye and said, "I've never stolen or permitted greed to enter any dealings that I've made at this bank. I don't work for profit. I like making gold with my client, not behind their back."

"Good," Harry said. "I want you to work for me under secrecy and security spells that will protect you physically and me financially."

The one-eyed goblin grinned at his wife and nodded his head. He was going to let her continue working with the numbers she loved. She smiled and then looked to the boy, "I'm available for accounts work, young sir."

"Good," he said and then looked at Ravenbolt's grandfather, Ironfist. "Why are you not working?"

"Internal political manoeuvring, moved me right out after I turned seventy-five," the older goblin said. "I was never granted a managerial position, so I had to move on to allow younger goblins to come after me."

"I see," Harry said. "Are you trained in managing?"

"We all are," the old goblin said. "We have to be in order to see which clan can earn their positions in management. I was not strong enough to battle successfully for my position."

"Are you strong enough for this," Harry asked. "I have many ideas and plans. I'll need strong managers to oversee the implementation of new businesses and a couple of dummy corporations. So I need to know, if you can do this?"

"I can try," Ironfist confessed. "I have not been working for a while and will to time to adjust."

"A trial period then," Harry said. "Six months and I'll outline your first job so that you know what's expected."

"Agreed," replied Ironfist.

Harry cast the spells that would protect the goblins and that would secure his accounts and Estate within their managerial hands. No other goblin could access them from that day forward.

The spells formed black and gold bands on their uppers arms too. The degree or level of security as well as time frame was marked by colour. Only Ironfist's were currently black and copper, which were different from the others, but the old goblin nodded his understanding as the colour indicated his trial period. After six months, if the goblin had managed things successfully, the copper marks would turn to gold too.

"I'll leave the two of you to continue sorting and organizing these, as we've begun today," Harry said. He gathered the folder of documents that he'd been seeking and prepared to shop a little before returning to his Aunt's house. "Owl me when it is complete," he said and then paused dramatically. "Oh, do check and see if this permission is also good enough for gaining control of the Black Estate too, since I am the official magical godson of Sirius Black."

Ironfist cackled and the other goblins grinned. They were going to love working for one, Harold James Potter aka Harry Potter aka the Boy-Who-Lived.

Harry - James - Potter - Harry - James - Potter

**TBC...**


	4. Chapter 4

**CH 4**

Harry - James - Potter - Harry - James - Potter

Harry returned the following day to his Aunt's house. He looked at the upstairs rooms and since the bathroom separated the '_Aunt Marge's_' room and Dudley's room. His Aunt's room that she shared with her husband was at the end of the hall on the opposite side.

So he took over the room seemingly designated to belong to Vernon's sister. He magically removed all contents and shrunk them to fit the smallest room in the house. He destroyed and banished all furnishings in the smallest bedroom and placed all of the items like the dresser and bed into the smallest room.

The large queen size bed was shrunk to a serviceable single, the wide dresser turned into a tall-boy full of drawers and the wardrobe was sized to fit the room. All linens, curtains and potpourri and other froo-froo stuff were moved into the smallest room too, all properly placed as it had been in the larger room.

He moved all contents deemed to belong to him from the cupboard under the stairs to Marge's old room. Then he banished it all away in order to pull out a magical standard spacing saving boy's bedroom furniture set, complete with bed, springy mattress and bedroom decor. He didn't need much and the only additional bit of furniture was a magically secure roll-top desk.

Harry had purchased an owl tree for the corner of the room with a large wide mouthed tray that converted the dropping into a very safe plant fertilizer that he could send to the garden or allow to drop into the pot to fertilize the tree. It was placed near the window and then he spelled the window to act like a Muggle pet door for Owls.

Owls could fly into the window, through it and out of it, without the window being opened. If the window was opened, the spell still worked the same and only worked like a bug screen preventing insects from entering the room.

He set up an additional small wardrobe that had been advertised as an '_Elf-home_' for house-elves. Rose was with him when he purchased it. It was useful and portable too, so she tested it out and had actually been the one to select it. He also had her purchase bolts of fabric and various patterns in order to make her uniform. He told her that he'd show her how to make her uniform and other clothing after he'd finished talking with his blood family. That was only going to be after they'd slept off their previous day.

One of the last things he did was to secure the door of his new room with a floor lock, a bolt in the door and an automated locking spell for whenever he left the room. Then he informed his Aunt that he'd be sleeping for several hours and said that he'd be speaking to his family the next night before the evening meal.

She had no choice, but to agree. She then remembered that the boy was sick and that she was not to enter his room, which she relayed to her family at dinner that night.

Harry - James - Potter - Harry - James - Potter

"The boy has not been sick for this length of time before," Vernon said red-faced and angry. "What the in blazes has he been doing?"

"Maybe he's been skiving off his chores," Dudley grunted, hoping to get his freaky cousin in trouble again.

"Well I'll not stand for this," the large man said. He stomped over to the cupboard under the stairs and yanked the door open to find that it was now just a plain old broom cupboard with brooms and cleaning supplies. "What is the meaning of this?"

Harry had come down the stairs carrying a London Directory book and a folder full of papers, including his uncle's banking book and copies of the man's pay deposits. "I've moved to an upstairs room," he said. "Why don't you join your family at the table? We have a few things to discuss, wouldn't you agree?"

"There's nothing to discuss," the man said. "We provide for you out of the goodness of our hearts and you've neglected your chores for the past two days."

"Yes, well things have been eventful," Harry said. "Go on. Join your family at the table. That is where you all like to discuss important matters, so that's where this conversation needs to take place." He mentally shoved the man and the man nearly turned purple until a gleam entered his eye. He reached for the boy, but was stopped twelve inches or about a foot away before he could grab him. Vernon couldn't get any closer and an inch of fear appeared so momentarily in the man's eyes.

"To the table Uncle Vernon," Harry said, pointing in the direction. "All will be sorted there." He then approached the table and sat down at the head of the table where his uncle had been prone to sit. He snapped his fingers and the T.V. turned off. The three Dursleys turned to look at him. "Now that I have your attention, today Aunt Petunia, we will give Dudley and Vernon here a lesson in money matters and what constitutes proper care for a magical child, namely a Wizard like me."

The three were confused by the boy's tone and his lack of fear. This was not how it was supposed to be. Dudley was further confused by the term magical child and Wizard, while his parents visibly blanched.

"First let's begin with the comments or statements that you have been hurling at me, for years, Aunt Petunia," Harry said. "My parents never provided money for my care, I cost too much to keep or feed, etc..." She frowned because that was something that she firmly believed. "Just to let you know you're forgiven for making them, since you obviously didn't know." He whipped his head around and snarled at Vernon, "Did she?"

"I don't know what you're talking about boy," Vernon said, although he was beginning to get nervous, but couldn't figure out why.

"No?" The boy sneered and then pulled out his uncle's banking book, it was the one where the man's pay was deposited. "Then what's this extra two hundred and fifty pound monthly you've been receiving since I've been place on the doorstep of this house."

"That's Vernon's bonus pay," Petunia said in a confused tone.

"That's money for my care, Aunt Petunia," Harry snarled. "Grunnings doesn't have a bonus program. I know because I investigated the company." He held out a parchment paper from his bank and said, "Two hundred and fifty pounds to be transferred monthly into the allotted Muggle Bank Account for the care of one Harry Potter. The bank accepting the money has a notation attached to every deposit. Here's a copy of Vernon's monthly statement, please read it Aunt Petunia."

"Grunnings automated pay, one thousand one hundred fifty-three pounds and seventy P," she said. "It's written twice and then," she blanched and then was furious at her husband. "Child care, two hundred and fifty pounds... Vernon," she yelled his name. Unfortunately her thoughts had been going in the same direction as her husband, but the man had obviously used the money for his week-end poker games. She knew that's what he'd been doing, when the money should have been used in the house or for her precious Diddums.

"Anyway the deposit has now been altered," Harry said. "Here Aunt Petunia, this is the account I opened in your name at this bank. It's separate from your family account and now you can't claim there is no money to feed or clothe me, since the only money entering that account is the money for my care. Here's the card to make transactions on my be-half for clothing and food, the withdrawal amounts are limited, of course. I also have a second card on that account that has a maximum fifty pound weekly withdrawal allowance for my personal use."

His aunt was not happy with it because now she knew she'd have to take the boy shopping for clothes and actually buy food for the boy. "I see," she said tucking the paperwork away. "I'll take you tomorrow, then."

Harry nodded and then said, "Don't worry Dudders I didn't forget you. Now it's time for your lesson in big businesses and how they work, are you ready?"

Dudley nodded slowly, not liking that his freak of a cousin was talking to him like he was an infant.

"Good boy," Harry said. He pulled out a folder brochure type thing and handed one to each of his relatives. "Now open it up and look on the first page. You'll be pleased to note that it's all about Grunnings, but please read what's written under it."

His portly cousin sneered and said, "Subsidiary of Blackpool and Tracks Limited."

"Good boy," Harry said condescendingly. "Now turn the page and continue reading."

"Blackpool and Tracks Limited, subsidiary to Emmery Conglomerate," Dudley read. "Emmery Conglomerate is comprised of the following companies... there is a long list here cousin."

"Just get to the end where it says all under..."

"All under the general management and ownership of LEP Inc.," Dudley said. His cousin then pushed the London Directory to him and that's where the family noticed that it was the '_Business Listings: A London Directory_.' There were days when the fat boy failed to understand what was asked of him, however this time he cottoned on and opened the directory book and looked up '_LEP Incorporated_' with the matching business address information. "LEP Inc., short name for Lily Evans Potter Incorporated..."

Petunia inhaled sharply and her husband nearly turned purple from indignation. "Mummy," Dudley said turning to her. "What's that mean?"

"Lily was my mother's name," Harry said. "Her maiden name was Lily Evans and she married a Potter, right Aunt Petunia?"

"YOU HAD NO RIGHT," Vernon finally bellowed, picking up the copies of his bank statements. "MARK MY WORDS _**BOY**_YOU'RE GOING TO REGRET THIS, WE TOOK YOU IN OUT OF THE GOODNESS OF OUR HEARTS AND WHAT DO YOU REPAY US WITH...YOUR INSOLENCE, YOUR CHEEK...YOU'RE GOING TO BE..."

Harry stood up with his green eyes glowing magically. "SIT DOWN VERNON," he said imperially and slammed his hand on the table for emphasis. The man had no choice, but to comply as the magic was forcing him. "Now all of you pay attention and listen up, good. I don't know what you told yourselves to convince yourselves that your actions were righteous, but let me tell you something that no one magical has told you. I'm only here to be protected from an evil man that is still out there hunting me and the ONLY reason that you've never been hunted down before is because MY MOTHER LOVED YOU," he veered to stare at his Aunt. "SHE LOVED YOU ENOUGH TO PROTECT YOU AND YOUR FAMILY AUNT PETUNIA."

"What do you mean by that," Petunia sneered at the boy. "I wanted nothing to do with your kind."

"No, I can very well believe that, but if you have an inkling of what she was fighting, part of you should have understood that you'd have been a very big tool in demoralizing her if you suddenly up and died on her, don't you think," Harry said. "Something, like what happened your parents, hmm?"

Petunia's eyes widened. "They've never..."

"They couldn't find you," Harry said matter-of-factly. "It's not for lack of trying, but they couldn't track you or your," his nose wrinkled. "Husband because everything in this house and including the company he works for is under _her_ magical protection by blood."

"What are you going on about Boy," Vernon asked.

"My name is not Boy, it is Harry," the boy said. "Use it before I decide to sell Grunnings to the worst kind of businessman out there, where they'll dismantle it and fire all employees."

"You can't," Vernon paled.

"You'll find that I can," Harry said. "Half the company names on this brochure, which your company puts out every year, by the way, are other companies that belongs the Potter Family and by that, I do mean the Magical Potter Family of which I'm the last Potter, now do you understand."

"So what's going to happen to us," Dudley asked.

"Now there are going to be some changes in this household," Harry said. "I've moved into Marge's old room and the smallest bedroom has been converted into a proper guestroom for her. Dudley you no longer have a second bedroom and all toys from that room are completely gone. The room I'm occupying is the second smallest, which I think is quite fair. You'll take me out of the school I'm registered at by telling them that I have special needs that are not being met by their curriculum. Tell them whatever other story you want, but know that I'll be doing self-study program from here until I get my Letter."

"Letter," Dudley said. "What letter?"

"I didn't want my son to know," Petunia said.

"Did you plan on neutering your son," Harry asked with a sneer.

"What kind of foul question is that," Vernon exclaimed.

"Genetics," Harry said. "I know you watched that program Aunt. What did genetics tell you?"

The woman gulped and said, "There's a chance that he carries the gene for magical children."

"WHAT," Vernon bellowed again.

"SHUT UP," Harry shouted back. "You are a carrier too you oversized idiot. I've looked it up. You're ancestors banished a member of their family to the '_normal_' world because they couldn't do magic. You're just lucky you only had one child. Any more children and they may have been like me or my mum."

"That's not true," Vernon said paling again.

"Sorry, but it is," Harry said. "It's just one of those quirky things of nature. Chances are that Dudley could have magical children in the future and then where would he be as a Father. Beating up his son or daughter just because they could do something he couldn't or because he was brought up to be afraid of the unexplained."

He glared at them and then said in an amiable tone, "Did you know that you really shouldn't be afraid of a magical child just because they're magical?" He had their complete attention now. "What you should be scared of is beating that magical child because one day after they come of age to do magic anywhere, they can come back and take untraceable magical revenge on you. They can come do whatever they want to you and you'd have no recourse or help because no one '_normal_' would believe you and no one in the magical world would help you because they'd believe that you'd deserved it."

He took a deep breath and sighed, "So from now one, the only chores that I'll be doing around here is taking care of my room, my own clothes and the garden because I like it. I'll occasionally cook because I'll feel like it, but it will not be an everyday thing. I may choose to get proper lessons in cooking and baking before continuing though, as I seem to have developed a curiosity for it. I'll let you know about that Aunt since the money for my cooking and baking ingredients can come out of my care account. Dudley will have to learn to clean his own room. He should at least learn how to do that before he moves out on his own, unless you plan to teach him about hiring maid services and if that's your plan you really should teach him money management first."

"You'll not strike or beat me for the remainder of my time here," Harry said. "I don't care what Marge says when she shows up to visit. Just tell her that you've been investigated by Children Services. Tell her that they still check up on you and that you had to give me a room comparable to the size of your own son's in order to promote fairness. For the rest of my time here, I will stay out of your way and you will stay out of mine. Any further accidents like this," he held out his arm to show the inflamed scar down the length of his right forearm. "And I'll bring charges against your son for assault and attempted murder, and charges against the two of you for aiding and abetting. Am I clear?"

They nodded their heads quickly. "Good," Harry said, leaving them to go down into the cellar. "Aunt, I'm going to borrow your sewing equipment for the next few days, you don't have any mending to do, do you?"

"No," she said confused.

"Wonderful," he said and came back up carrying the portable sewing machine and serger, along with all the thread and needles she had. "We'll go shopping in a couple of days, I'm thinking glasses first, I do need to get my eyes rechecked you know."

She nodded absently and looked over the copied bank statement that belonged to her husband. "Vernon," she said in a tone that had the man cringing. "We are going to talk about this, now. My sweet Diddums go watch T.V. in the other room."

"Yes, mum," the overweight boy said, getting up and shuffling to the couch where he planned to lounge until supper was ready or perhaps, reflecting on what happened and the volume of noise coming from the kitchen, until the meal was delivered.

Harry - James - Potter - Harry - James - Potter

**TBC...**


	5. Chapter 5

**CH 5**

Harry - James - Potter - Harry - James - Potter

Harry had been laying in bed thinking about things that needed to be changed before he even entered the Wizarding World to just go and attend Hogwarts. '_That's one thing that can't change,_' he thought. '_I have to go to Hogwarts_.'

However glancing at the book that his one time friend Hermione Granger had loved, "Hogwarts: A History", he knew that something else could be changed and should be before it gets permanently written into the school's laws.

'_House separation implemented in year one instead of fourth year, as per the Founders original mandate,_' he thought. '_House separation became an officially permanent change at the end of my second year, but before that any student that didn't want to be sorted didn't have to be. They could still attend classes with his or her peers._'

He shook his head and looked over at Rose who was grooming Hedwig the little white snowy owl that he'd recently purchased. His owl had only come to him a day ago because on the day that he'd purchased her, she had two siblings that she'd wanted to ensure went to good homes. He paid for her and agreed to let her remain at the shop until they'd been sold.

(...Master Harry...) Rose signed. (...May I practice painting now?...)

(...Of course...) Harry said and then asked, (...Did you the do it with the video?...) She nodded her head vigorously. One day he came back from shopping having used his allowance and had purchased a small television video machine combination. It wasn't big, but it was enough to play the three series of drawing and painting programs that he'd found.

One series was dedicated to the art of drawing in pencil and pen. Another was about painting in watercolour and the final one was in painting in oils. The two of them had both enjoyed the drawing program, but Harry was drawn to watercolour while his bonded elf liked working with oil paints. They did this every Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday.

Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, Harry followed a Muggle educational program set up and monitored by Rose. She even started him on the basics of a magical education, especially how to properly write with a quill pen. Luckily his Aunt had an old calligraphy art kit at home and that allowed Rose to get something similar for him to use and practice with.

Sundays were the days that he spent at Gringotts with his management team. They made plans and implemented many of them to run on their own. However there were three businesses near and dear to Harry's heart.

The Black Lily Publishing House was formed to run on a twenty-four hour clock. This was Ironfist's test run for beginning and managing the start up of a business, as per Harry's request and employment. It had begun from the ground up, with find a location, getting the printing machine and the staff willing to run it and ensure that all orders were taking care of.

There were now three shifts at the publishing house. Night shift was run by an actual Vampire, day shift was run by a friendly witch and the early morning shift was run by a goblin. It was first started as a re-print business and that part of the business was still going very strong. They started by re-printing some old magical cook books and magazines that had been out of print for the last hundred years. People bought them as novelties since some of the articles did mention laws that Ministry were planning to pass and they were curious to see if they had. Upon the expiration of the copyright dates or exclusive printing deals, other books were being reprinted too.

Slowly though, some actual authors approached the publishing house in order to publish their tacky little books. The business was there to publish and not make too much money, so a lot of things started to appear on the market.

The funny thing about the Publishers of the Wizarding World was that there were no true editors. No one corrected the mistakes of an author, since it was assumed that all spells for such were used, and therefore many, many times things were printed full of spelling or grammatical errors.

There was no actual business standard for Magical Publishing, but Harry had his own. If the author wanted their manuscript to go through an editing process to make a '_clean_' book for the market, well then it was an option offered by Black Lily Publishing for a smallish fee, no more than a galleon since the cleaning process did involve spells.

The second business wasn't so much as one starting from scratch, but more of a takeover. Harry never knew about this, but suspected that it might have occurred in his past life, since the Daily Prophet had always praised the Ministry of Magic and the Minister himself. This time around he found out that the paper wasn't doing so well that that the owner had thought to sell it.

"If the owner really wants to make a profit," Harry said to Ironfist and Hardwood. "Make them an offer they can't refuse. I want controlling and managerial stock interest to me. Double whoever or whatever else is offered and assure them that there will only be a very minor change in publishing policy."

The man in charge of the paper had been intrigued since his own managing goblin had circulated the rumour to see who would bite at the idea of owning the Daily Prophet. "I want to know what these minor changes are," the man told them. "I'm curious about how things could have been changed."

The owner received a policy statement that was projected to become the new policy for this particular Wizarding Newspaper. It was very simple and as follows:

'_All stories reported in the Daily Prophet will contain accurate, researched and truthful information for all stories, articles, essays and word games. Under no condition will anything in the Prophet be exaggerated, slanderous or false._'

The employees were about to get a similar shock in their employment contracts, which required renewal every time the Prophet is turned over to new management. It was almost jokingly likened to the Defense Against the Darks teacher position at Hogwarts where the Professor changes on a near yearly basis. All employee contracts will contain the following:

'_First offense; if one false bit of news is reported then it will result in a retraction and publicly written apology to the injured party, a monetary fine and a permanent mark on employee record. A second false bit of news or slander will result in the above, with a heavier fine, followed by immediate dismissal and with no letter of recommendation._'

The old owner liked it and wondered why he never thought about adding those two conditions. "I'll sell it to this one," he said to his manager and Hardwood who had been invited to deliver the information. "Your client seems to know what he's doing. I'm looking forward to reading the New Daily Prophet."

Hardwood bowed and handed the man the papers for the transfer. Transferring ownership could be quickly done or slowly done. In this case it was done in a way that changed the newspaper and it soon became known as the '_New Daily Prophet_' in a few months time, during which the Wizarding World just shrugged, got used to the name change and went on with their daily activities.

Only one Witch was dismissed on the second day of the changeover because of the exaggerated facts and blatantly false information that had infuriated the person within the article that she'd written. Not only did she do so once, but followed through on the second day doing the exact same thing. She thought that she'd still be able to keep her position at the paper, since she had been able to in the past, only to discover that she'd been barred from entering the building on the third day of the changeover. There were no more articles by Rita Skeeter to be found in the New Daily Prophet.

The third business was a racing broom business and the only reason Harry wanted it, was because he was still a child of the Wizarding World. Many boys wanted brooms and he was just like the rest. So he wanted to put together a team of testers and researchers first to see if a new broom could compete with the current broom market currently dominated by Cleansweep, Comet and Nimbus. The name of his company...'_Bolt_', of course.

Harry - James - Potter - Harry - James - Potter

The year before he turned eleven, moved on in relative peace since there were no more confusing or conflicting emotional signals from his blood relatives. The only fun time he had was when Marge came to visit and found her over-sized self stuffed into the smallest room in the house.

Her precious nephew Dudley was made to clean up the dog doo on the lawn because Harry refused to care for the mongrel. The woman was livid when the green-eyed charity case refused to lug her luggage up the stairs. She had been the one that called him from where he'd been busy preparing their meal.

"Sorry Marge," Harry said to her without using the honourific of Aunt to precede her first name. "A few things have changed and I cannot perform a duty suited to an adult. You or Vernon will have to do that. Excuse me while I return to the kitchen to finish cooking your meal, unless of course you prefer burnt roast in which case I'll remove my presence and go up to my room."

"Cheeky, ungrateful brat," Marge Dursley hissed. Harry quirked an eyebrow, crossed his arms and waited for an answer.

Petunia came from the kitchen and said, "Harry I'll look after the roast, just go to your room." The boy nodded, walked away back to the kitchen in order to put away his apron and gather up his own plate to eat in his room. "Aunt Marge," she said. "He's to be treated like Dudley."

"He's to be treated like the charity case he is," Marge said. "Money was not provided for his upkeep means that his parents were wastrels."

"Actually, we've discovered that that was incorrect," Petunia told her with a glare at her embarrassed, looking husband. Her irritation ever since, had forced her hand and she'd taken his pay and handed him an allowance for his gaming days. "He had been provided for. I was just never given the money for his care."

"Really," the woman said, not liking the way that the skinny woman was glaring at her beloved brother. "What does my dear brother have to do with it?"

"He stole it to gamble it away," Dudley said in a matter of fact tone. "Mum the oven's buzzing and I'm hungry."

"Shall we sit down to eat," Petunia said, guiding them to the prepared table.

After they finished their meal, Harry came down to do the dishes and it was Marge's opportunity to berate him and his mother. "So you still earn your keep," Marge commented. "Good that you know your place, spare the rod and spoil the child or so the saying goes. You'll need to walk Ripper for me and make sure that you clean up after him Boy."

Harry ignored her and continued to clear the table.

"Did you hear me, Boy," she said trying to grab his arm, but slipped and fell because she over balanced on the chair.

"I'm sorry," Harry said looking down at her, lifting the dishes in both hands like a professional waiter. "Were you talking to me? I did not hear you call my name. I have dishes to do at the moment. So you'll have to walk your own fleabag and clean up after him yourself." He was about to walk away when he turned back and said, "Oh and if he messes up the herb garden again this year, be assured that he will be sent to doggy heaven in short order for uncontrolled terrorism and endangerment to children."

Marge sputtered from her position on the floor. As her brother helped her up, she said, "No wonder you called me for assistance with him. I'll set him straight in short order."

She marched to the kitchen and noticed that it was sparkling clean. All leftovers were stored away, pots and dishes washed. The boy was about to leave the room when she stomped up to him and was about to backhand him for insolence when she found herself spinning in place a couple of times. Her stomach turned queasy and suddenly she had to go to the loo badly or else lose everything she'd eaten.

She ran up the stairs and noticed in passing that the room she normally occupied while visiting wasn't opened to reveal the lovely bed and cute decor that she loved. She did notice that Dudley's toy room had changed, but she was too busy to notice much more than that.

Harry looked at his uncle and said, "Nice try Vernon." He shook his head and then kneeled down at the growling and barking '_Ripper_'. He stared the dog in the eye and then rapped the dog once and hard on his sensitive nose. "Bad dog," he said sharply. He let out a low growl that marked him as Alpha in a pack and that Ripper's place was now considered the low one. "I'm going to my room now and will stay out of your way for the entirety of her visit."

That woman had tried everything, but in the end she cut her stay short since the room she'd been placed in gave her the sense that the walls were closing in on her. It was a minor prank spell that sensed when a person wasn't comfortable and had been about to fall sleep. It didn't last all night, but it was enough that the woman was baggy eyed days into her visit.

She refused to return and said, "I'm sorry Vernon, but you won't be seeing me coming back here anytime soon. You may visit me though, but only if you leave that dangerous menace behind."

Harry only grinned and waved at her cheerfully, pretending for the neighbourhood, that he'd been glad to have had the foul woman over for a visit.

Harry - James - Potter - Harry - James - Potter

**TBC...**


	6. Chapter 6

**CH 6**

Harry - James - Potter - Harry - James - Potter

Harry woke up one morning and grinned. He was going to turn eleven at the end of the week, which means that his Hogwarts letter should already be on its way to him now. This was around the same time that his Aunt had been cooking up clothes to dye them in his past life. It was a certainty that he'd get it now, be able to read and reply to it properly this time. There were no more baggy clothes in his life either.

He smiled at Hedwig and said (...Good morning, Rose. Do I have anything left to do for these correspondence courses?...)

Rose shook her head and said (...You do need to study for the exams taking place August fifteen in order to have an official record of completing your secondary education in the Muggle World...)

(...I'm ready for that...) Harry signed to her. (...I'm also ready to create a little havoc at Hogwarts. Once I have my letter, I will let my management team send out my query to the Hogwart's Board of Governors...)

(...You do know that might not go in your favour...) Rose told him. (...They might approve of the changes immediately...)

(...I know, but the letter I'm sending is only to make them aware of the changes that I'm positive many had complained about...) Harry told her. (...To be honest, I think this one was slipped in under some others that they'd approved, like Muggle Studies or something...)

(...I'm going down to make breakfast and check the mail...) He said and then paused as Hedwig guided a smaller owl into his room. "Hallo," he said to the owl. "Let me read this to see, if I need to send a reply. Why don't you rest in the owl tree, you must be tired."

The smaller owl looked surprised and hooted at Hedwig, who just nudged him in the direction of the tree, where water and treats were waiting for it. The delivery owl hooted gratefully and allowed the larger snowy owl to groom him while he tucked his head under for a nap.

Harry quickly skimmed the letter and said, "Once you've rested you can return to Hogwarts with my reply, it will be on the desk for you."

He then sat down to re-read the old familiar letter that he'd memorized oh so long ago, when he'd finally been able to get it. His old memories wanted to escape his carefully prepared mind, but he knew that new ones needed to be made. His old memories could not be allowed to cloud his new perceptions of the children going to the school now.

He sighed and reminisced for a moment longer. Then he tucked the letter away, mentally preparing to go to Diagon Alley for his supplies. He also knew why he'd been placed in this house those many years ago. They'd assumed, those in the magical world had assumed, that he'd been told about magic and the Wizarding World by his blood family. Well now it didn't matter and at least this time, no one would be informed that he was the Boy-Who-Lived. He had loved the half-giant, Hagrid, but had hated it when the man announced who he was, since he hadn't known anything, about the magical world, at the time, especially his god awful celebrity status.

Harry then went downstairs to prepare a full English breakfast, with appropriate substitutes, since he was in such a good mood and his Aunt had forced her husband and son to follow a diet.

She'd been horrified that her son had gotten into Smeltings, but that the uniform had to have been custom tailored for his huge size. She then told her son and husband, "Never again will either of you embarrass me like that. We're going to get a health check done on the entire family and see what the doctor says."

Harry snickered when they came back and she had asked him to place locks on all the places where food was stored in the house. He'd agreed to do it when the rest of the family were asleep so that he could use his magic to safely do it on the machines without damaging their structural integrity. The real reason she asked him to do it was that he'd already made the offer once a few months back before Dudley had gotten into Smeltings.

He set the table quickly and quietly. Then he modified the cooking time to coincide with the waking up noises coming from the other members of the house. His Aunt was first and all she needed to start the day was coffee. His Uncle and cousin, used to come down to a bowl full of fresh fatty scones. They still got scones, but only two each and they were oatmeal based with real fruits mixed in. They were getting used to it.

Bacon was reduced by salt content and sometimes by meat type as well. The market was an eye opener for his Aunt when she decided to try a '_new_' health food place and discovered soy products plus turkey substitutes. Turkey bacon was given to her men, but when she was irked by their actions or attitudes they'd get soy bacon instead or none.

Eggs remained fairly the same since it was required, but there was no more toast in the house and if Dudley wanted any bread he usually pestered Harry to make him a loaf.

Harry had taken the cooking and baking lessons that he'd wanted and had learned how to make simple home-style bread. He was the god for the boys in the neighbourhood because of it and Dudley was King because he was the one doling out the portions of his cousin's home baked goods.

The table was finally fully set when the fruits and yogurt were placed on the table along with natural fruit juice made with Petunia's preferred kitchen appliance. A state-of-the-art, as-seen-on-TV, juicer thing, it was one of the ones that had been better developed. She forced his Uncle to pay for it because of his lie about the childcare payment that he'd been receiving for Harry. She was milking that lie every once in a while because technically the value of that lie was two hundred and fifty pounds per month for the next ten or so years.

Harry turned to his aunt and said, "I'm going into London today to get my school supplies."

"I didn't see your letter come in with the post," she told him.

"It came earlier this morning," he told her. Out of reluctant respect in maintaining the peace, he never mentioned the dreaded '_M-Word_' in their presence. "I'll be taking a cab and returning later. I'll eat in town."

"Okay," she said. "Be sure that your purchases for that are not seen."

"Understood," he said and returned to his meal, as his uncle and cousin came down the stairs.

Harry - James - Potter - Harry - James - Potter

Harry entered the Wizarding World by way of the Leaky Cauldron and wondered why there was such a crowd at this time of day. He kept his head low and the familiar '_Grunnings_' cap covered his scar. He slipped passed the people into the back. He quickly tapped out the sequence to get into the Alley with his hand. Although to anyone that happened to be looking it was like he had a wand in his sleeve that he refused to remove from his holster only to have to put away again.

He headed directly to Gringotts and to his team's set of offices that they'd been promoted into since they all passed the one million galleon earning point. Meaning they'd collectively earned one million galleons together, since the time the last of the Potter's took over the management of his own accounts. That money was new money too, from new businesses, not just some poor return from stocks or a lucky stock investment either.

"Hallo everyone," he said. "Are we ready to piss off the old meddler?"

"You finally got your letter," Snowfyre said eagerly.

"It's understandable that it was late," Harry explained that the owl was a fairly new post owl and the distance was longer than expected for the poor thing. "At least my reply will be sent back in time, Hedwig promised to follow and ensure that it did."

"So do you have the letters ready," Ironfist asked. Harry held out twenty copies of the same letter, each addressed to '_Member of Hogwarts Board of Governors_'. The old goblin cackled and said, "Great, we'll post them for you with a note that any replies are to be forwarded to us. We don't want them getting lost in the mail service, do we?"

"I'm hoping that one or two of them will respond before I go to school, but if they don't, then what this letter will be doing is informing them of my decision to be sorted only at the beginning of my fourth year of school, as per the original conditions of Hogwarts Charter and Laws," Harry told them.

"Can I see the letter," Griphook asked.

Harry handed them all a copy and most of them snorted. He shrugged and said, "I'm only eleven. Hopefully this makes me sound like a child of that age."

"Oh, it does," Ravenbolt said with chuckle. Then he read the letter out loud:

'_Dear Sir or Madam,_

_My name is Harry Potter and I read a book 'Hogwarts: A History'. It's all about the Founders and the sorting Houses and stuff. Did you know that the book says that students were not sorted until the beginning of fourth year and that the change where it says that first years need to be sorted is not approved, yet? I could be wrong because the book I read was kind of old, but the new books said the same thing too. That is if you ignore the spell forcing your eyes to drift past that unchanged paragraph._

_So I'm wondering if I will be punished for not being sorted for my first three years of school. I'm more interested in learning the cool magical stuff, than in being separated from my friends and since that funny law hasn't passed yet, I'm writing to tell you that I choose not to be sorted until I reach year four._

_I'm sorry for making what my relatives call a fuss, but really I want to be with my friends no matter where or when they'll be sorted either in their first or fourth year._

_Sincerely,_

_Harry Potter aka Boy-Who-Lived_'

The goblins chuckled because that letter really sounded like a child complaining about not being able to hang out with their friends. In fact it sounded like he was whining for a chance to play with his friends for five more minutes, rather than going home for the evening meal. It was a completely Muggle concept that was understood by many exposed to Muggles.

"Anyway," Harry said as the chuckles died down. "Let's send those off and see if it impacts anything at the school."

Hardwood then called him over and said, "We've finished sorting through the Black vaults and properties that are under your Godfather's purview. Some Wills were opened and closed, again by the same miscreant."

"Then we'll do the same thing," Harry said. "We action everything under silence and secrecy spells, without giving the old meddler anything in return."

"We've ensured that the Ministry's aware that someone has come forward to take control of these vaults and there has been grumblings from the Malfoy Family, since they'd been the active proxy to these accounts," Ironfist said.

"Well they didn't do a very good job since they haven't taken any action for the pending Wills either," Harry said, fingering the signet ring for the Black House. The motto too had changed since his was acting Head for that Family. In this case it changed from '_Toujours Pur_' to '_Vagabond Perdue_'. The crest changed from its old form into the stylized laughing mask from the comedy side with of the Comedy-Tragedy symbol for plays, inside a full moon over a large dog figure running across an open field.

"We'll get everything set up," Ironfist told the boy. "We'll send everything for your final approval and your seal."

"Thank you," Harry said. "Is there anything else major to take care of now?" The goblins shook their heads and so he turned to Griphook. "Griphook, I think it's time for me to ride the cart. Now tell me are there any family trunks that would suit for my first trip to school. I'm looking for something that can shrink on wand touch so that I don't have to rely on spells to transport it to and from my dorm. It should at least have two magical expanded compartments in it because I'd like to bring my painting supplies."

"There are three that fit that description," Griphook said, as he reviewed his memory of vault contents. "Come, we will see them and you can decide."

"Thank you," Harry said and then he waved to others saying, "I will not be traveling to the Muggles for any of the Holidays, so get a holiday house set up for me. Please look for a likely place, preferably unplottable and in some city location, maybe a fixer-upper for me to play with magic. Let me know by Owl."

He followed the smallest goblin in his employ to the tram carts, settled in and then whooped in pleasure zipping through the tunnels at excessive speeds that normally made most humans want to puke in the carts or over the sides of the platforms. The Boy-Who-Lived loved the feeling of the carts since to him they were better than the fair roller-coasters he'd been on when his blood family had taken him along to a couple of the local fairs since the changes had occurred.

Harry looked over the trunks and immediately liked the black one with burnished silver looking clasps. "I like this one," he said. He looked at the initials on in and muttered, "R.A.B., who's..."

"Regulus Arcturus Black," Griphook said. "He was your godfather's younger brother. He'd made a Will at a very young age and it was available for reading one day after his nineteenth birthday. His mother had not been pleased when that happened."

Harry opened it up and noticed some of the books that Regulus had collected during his school years were still in there. There were a few of questionable history and there was one that he was certain was written in parsel-script. "His clothing can be cleaned and untagged for the charity bin or used clothing store. I'll keep his books, for now. Any family based trinkets can be sorted, inventoried and stored with the rest in the vaults. I won't need his school notes, but I'll look over them first before I destroy them."

The trunk was perfect for him. It had two expanded compartments, one of which was halved. One half was sectioned into various sizes with matching covers and a perfect place for the generic school supplies. The other had its own cover and that's where the trove of schoolbooks was found.

"It'll need airing for a bit," Griphook said. "The spells will need to be reapplied too."

"Can you see that it gets done," Harry said. "You don't have to change the initials on it. Just add mine here under the handle by the locks. If you can, try to get both coats of arms on the cover, opposite corners and include protection spells on it against theft. Wouldn't want anyone to think that the Boy-Who-Lived couldn't guard his belongings, do you have any other suggestions?"

"Not for this," Griphook said. "I do suggest you get an auto-quill for the History of Magic class and study another subject when the Professor lectures about it. Also getting a telepa-type-writer for doing your homework might be faster for you."

"What's that," Harry asked.

"It's a manual type writer that can type what you're thinking," Griphook explained. "Some students use it to make better notes to study from."

"That might not be a bad idea when I'm in a higher year at Hogwarts," Harry said. He wasn't sure he wanted something that would type down the thoughts he had, especially against the old meddler. "No I don't think I'll get one of those."

"Understood," Griphook said. "There's also a dicta-type writer that works like a dicta-quill or the dicta spell on the dicta-quills."

"That sounds better," Harry said. "For now I'll let you take care of the trunk until the smell is removed. Just call for Rose to pick it up. For now I'll pick up a backpack to shop for the rest my things. It might be easier to have a good one for school and classes."

"Yes, sir," Griphook said. "Here," he handed him a pouch. "It a secure money pouch tied to your master key. Just touch the key to the pouch and say the amount you need. Put the receipt in the pouch and we'll match it to the transactions you'll do. Use this key for frivolous purchases. It's the key to your tuition vault for your schooling and so far we've sent payment to the school for your first year."

"Thank you Griphook," Harry said, taking the old familiar key. The vault had been re-keyed like the others and the security increased, but it was still the thought and history behind his tuition vault that had him thoughtful.

They soon exited the bowels of the bank and Harry took his time walking through the familiar street of Diagon Alley. He hunted for book bargains, hoping to come across something he'd never read before, but first he collected many of the items, clothing and books for his first year at Hogwarts. His platform nine and three quarter's ticket was sitting in his locked room inside his magical secure roll-top desk.

Harry - James - Potter - Harry - James - Potter

**TBC...**


	7. Chapter 7

**CH 7**

Harry - James - Potter - Harry - James - Potter

Harry was in his room, as he recalled his adventures in Diagon Alley. He had met Hermione and her parents shopping in Flourish and Blotts. They all looked slight overwhelmed by everything that they were seeing, but at least Professor Flitwick was the one showing them around.

He'd even run into Neville shopping at the Magical Menagerie with his Grand-Uncle Algie. That was something else that had been different too. He'd never fully met the boy until they were sharing a dorm at Hogwarts. Unfortunately things might be changing this time around in regards to dorm assignments.

He turned over to look at the snake tank in the corner of his room and shook his head. He really should have known better that to go into the Magical Menagerie. Two young magical milk snakes, one all black and one all white, were twined around one another in a small ball.

Harry - James - Potter - Harry - James – Potter

**Flashback**

"Oh dear," a Muggle woman said to her husband. "We're never going to get her out of here in time to get the other things she needs for school."

"How do we decide which books are appropriate for her," her husband questioned. "They're not quite organized in a way that we can understand."

Harry shook his head and then heard the voice of one of his old '_friends_' babbling about books. He stepped forward and asked, "Need any help looking around. I've been here a few times and can point out which books are not required for her level."

The Granger's looked at the boy dressed normally with well-worn jeans, a plain t-shirt and a ball cap with the word '_Grunnings_' on it. That alone told them that the boy was from the technological part of the world rather than someone brought up with magic. Mrs. Granger looked at the books her daughter kept placing in her hands and said, "Could you, please?"

"Sure," Harry said. "My name's Harry. Now I don't work here, but can help because I've been coming here for a while." He looked around and found a spare table and said, "Put them down there and we can sort them out." He used his magic to call forth three books made for Muggle parents to understand their magical child and the Laws that limit their actions by explaining the '_Statute of Secrecy_'.

"We're Doctors Granger and Granger," the woman said. "I'm Dr. Jane Granger and this is my husband Dr. John Granger."

"What kind of doctors," Harry asked politely.

"Dentists," the man replied.

"Pleased to meet you," Harry said and then he continued his explanation about the three books he called to the table. "You'll need these three since they are the most informative for Muggle parents." He separated all the books that Hermione had been collecting.

"First we sort the mandatory books on her list," he said and put aside all books that were a part of the book list for first years. Other Muggle parents were looking at him and copying his ideas on extra tables in the store. "We add these three for you so that you know about something of our Laws and what she can and cannot do when not in school. Any parent should really have these three, but I believe these were written with people that have had no exposure to magic at all in mind and are actually quite well written without sounding like they are talking down to you."

"How do you know about them," Mrs. Granger asked.

"I've started to read many of the books that are '_supposed_' to help Muggles," Harry explained with a snort. "Most start off wrong or they take things for granted. These three were written by a Muggle-born wizard, so they are more thorough in their explanations and don't take on the assumption that you've been exposed to a magical life." He put three of the eight books aside and said, "These are level twos or grade twos of the books related to the first year ones."

Hermione's parents were not surprised that her daughter had wanted to read ahead. "We're not getting those," her father said. "She'll have other things to study and I'm quite certain that any school she goes to will have a library."

Three more were put aside and the boy in the cap told them, "These are too advanced, even if she is curious about the magic they talk about inside. You need a certain level of magic to be able to do these spells or charms and there is no way that a first year could perform even the simplest spell in them. It'd be better to make a note of their titles and give them to her when she turns fifteen or sixteen. By then her magic will be able to handle the requirements and these are not school texts, as far as I can tell."

"Good idea," Mrs. Granger said, giving them to a passing clerk to put them back on the shelves. "What about the last two?"

"_Hogwarts: A History_," Harry grinned. "That one's all right, if a bit on the dry side. At least if she gets an updateable version, which will cost slightly more and that is worth it because it will update yearly for whatever additional cost you choose to pay. If she's the kind to re-read books, then I'd recommend you do that."

"What do you mean updateable," Mr. Granger asked.

"Well in the Muggle world you know about re-printed works and revised editions, yes," Harry asked. They nodded and he continued, "In this world, if you pay for it the magic will automatically update the edition you own until the fee you paid runs out or you renew it. For example, this book, if you buy it today and something happened at the school to change a Law or an event happens like a student breaks a testing record, well the event is then recorded and added to all books tagged with an update spell. The book will be automatically updated to include the new information. You pay an additional fee for an automated update based on number of years you want to update the book. Technically the book you have will be updated on a yearly basis until the fee you've paid runs out. Pay for five years of updates and you'll receive yearly updates for the next five years, which can be renewed or cancelled at anytime."

"That's…that's not possible," Mrs. Granger said wide-eyed.

"It's magic," Harry stated with a shrug. The second book he showed no expression, but only stated that it was similar to the other book. "_Major Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century_, it's not a bad read, but limited. I'd recommend she also get '_Notable Wizarding Events of the Past Three Hundred Years_', if she really wants to understand how this World truly works, especially for Muggle-borns coming into it."

"Are you not a muggle-born," Mr. Granger asked as his daughter came back with five more books in her arms.

"No," Harry told the people that had been listening. "My mother was. My father was what most referred to as a pure-blood. It's an archaic system, but if you think of the Wizarding World families like the Royal Family and the families connected to them, then you'll get an idea of what she's about to deal with. I'm what most consider as Muggle-raised."

"What happened to all my books," Hermione asked in a disappointed tone, putting down the others she'd brought to the table.

Harry looked at the five and pulled three away. "Not these," he said. "Too advanced magically. Theory is based on previous knowledge of subjects she's going to just begin to learn in first year. These two others are all right and I recommend these two be added to make an almost a comprehensive set related to beginner potions making." He'd summoned the, '_Potions Trade: Cauldron Tips & Tools_', and another called, '_Knife Skills: Differences in Cooking versus Potions_.'

Then he told them something really helpful that they weren't told about, when they'd entered the store. "Just to let you know all books on the third floor should be limited to those with the magical skill to do the spells, about someone sixteen or older. The books on the second floor are good for those that are about thirteen to sixteen and this floor is made for families and those that are attending first to third year. The basement of the shop contains bargain books, but I'd be cautious about some of those since they are not always sorted by magical level, age group or year of school ability."

Hermione huffed because the books that she thought were interesting were the ones on the upper levels. "How dare you judge my reading level to be that of a child," she said in a sharp, offended tone. "I'll have you know that I have top marks in my class because of retention ability."

"I am not judging your reading level," Harry told her in an equally sharp tone. "I'm judging you on the level of magic that you've accessed and trained in. Learning these advanced texts will not help you to learn the basic skills needed to do the spells contained within them. Even theoretical knowledge at this level is based on previous teachings that you haven't had yet nor had you selected books that would teach you those basics. Learn your limits before you do irreparable damage by doing something you're not ready for." He tossed her a book that outlined common spell damages from spells incorrectly mastered. He touched the brim of his cap, bowed the Doctors Granger and said, "I believe that you have enough to get an idea of what to watch for. Have a good day and I wish you luck Doctors Granger and Granger."

The parents that had been listening were glad that they did. Even the accompanying Professors, of which there were three in the store, had been surprised at how helpful the boy was for the Muggle parents.

Professor McGonagall looked over the potions texts and wondered why the Potions Master of their school had not added them to the book lists. Little did she know that these books had been magically removed from all muggle-born lists by the Headmaster of Hogwarts. Ever since the time that the Potter's had died and for approximately the past eleven years or so the number of botched potions in class made by Muggle-born and Muggle-raised had increased because of it.

Harry was glad that he hadn't stayed or else he'd have done something so monumentally stupid, as to bring up something that she'd never done yet. He wandered about the street for a bit and then spotted Neville Longbottom entering the Magical Menagerie.

'_I wonder if he's gotten his own wand or if has to use his father's again,_' he thought. '_Maybe I should ensure that he gets one for his first year, instead of his sixth year, like the last time._'

He walked into the shop, wondering how someone selected a toad as a familiar, rather than a cat or owl. He watched them for a bit before he interrupted them by bumping into Neville for the purpose of talking to the boy to find out about him. "Oops," Harry said. The store had been crowded, so he was able to use that in order to make it look like an accident. "Sorry about that, are you all right?"

"Fine," Neville said standing up. "How about you?"

"I'm used to being jostled, although I don't know why there's a fuss over there," Harry said pointing in the direction of one of the snake tanks. He frowned and thought, '_This is new_.'

"They're bringing in new products," the old man, by his grand-nephew's side, told them. "People are always curious about things like that. I'm Algernon Longbottom, just call me Algie and this is my grand-nephew Neville Longbottom."

"Hallo," Harry bowed politely. "My name's Harry."

"Harry what," Neville asked curiously.

"Just Harry for now, please," Harry said softly, looking away embarrassed.

Neville shrugged and nodded. "Okay," he agreed. "So just Harry, what year are you going into? Do you have a pet?"

"I got an owl about a year ago," Harry told them. "I'm going into my first year, you?"

"Me too," Neville said excitedly. "What do you think of this toad? He seems to be pretty solid."

"Why a toad," Harry asked in a calm and non-mocking tone.

"They're great for gardens," Neville told him. "I figure he'd be great to have around when I'm doing anything related to Herbology."

"I never thought of that," Harry said. "How do you choose a toad from all others?"

"How did you choose your owl," Neville asked.

"I didn't," Harry said. "She flew to my shoulder and started grooming my hair. The shopkeeper said that it was similar to what his cousin Ollivander usually said about wands. They choose their witch or wizard and nothing can change their minds about it."

"Did you go to the wand shop to get your wand yet," Neville asked, wondering if he could accompany the boy and in a way get a wand meant for him, instead of being forced to use his father's wand like his Gran had wanted him to do.

"No," Harry said. He hadn't wanted to, in case he couldn't be fitted. His original wand had been snapped before he'd been sentenced to prison. It was only an unreasonable fear, but still one that haunted him enough that he hadn't gone in that shop yet. He looked at the other boy and said, "Not yet, 'cause I'm kinda worried."

"What's there to be worried about," Algie asked.

"What if one doesn't suit me," Harry said. The other two looked at him like he was crazy, but he only shrugged and said, "I know it's kind of an unreasonable fear, but I'm still worried about it."

Algie turned away and looked thoughtful. He didn't hold up with his sister's reasons for forcing Neville to use his father's wand, since it was clear that the boy was nothing like his father had been. "We'll go with you," the old man said. "That is if you don't mind the company."

"Haven't you gone to get your wand yet," Harry asked Neville, hoping to fish for the answer to his private question.

"No," Neville said. "Not yet." He looked back at the toad that had been looking at him the entire time. No other toad was paying attention to what was happening. "I think this one, Uncle Algie. He's got something about him that I like."

"All right," Algie told him. "I'll see if I can get the shopkeeper's attention. Why don't you fill the basket with things you'll need to care for your toad?"

"Yes, uncle," Neville walked off looked for food and treats.

"You should think of a travel case for him or perhaps a portable terrarium of some kind," Harry suggested, having followed his new-old friend around the shop.

"A portable…" Neville looked confused and saw the other boy point to a large rounded glass enclosure. It looked like a rounded goldfish bowl only this kind was made to grow with the toad of choice. Once the toad was placed inside it, it couldn't leave it until their bonded let them out. However since this kind of thing is made to imitate a natural environment for the toad, they sometimes became reluctant to leave the enclosures. "I've never seen something like this before."

"What's that," Algie came back holding the toad in front of him. "Oh, that looks quite nice. Here's your toad." He handed the amphibian to Neville who, after holding the toad for a bit select one of the enclosures and placed the toad inside.

"Croak," the toad noised, which caused his chosen wizard to grin.

"I think he likes that one," Neville said.

In his basket he placed the globe and a terrarium kit that contained the basics like a small pool, a warming stone, some greenery and a few funny looked toys for the toad, not that a toad needed toys. They were there just for fun.

Neville turned to the corner and noticed that the crowd of people had diminished. "I'm curious," he said looking at Harry. "Let's go see what the fuss was about."

"All right," Harry said. They walked to the corner and noticed that many of the creatures in that area were reptiles. "Oh, they're snakes."

"S…s…snakes," Neville said nervously.

"Don't worry," Harry said. "They're kind of like toads. They get rid of pests in gardens too. I don't know much about magical snakes though." It was true. His old house-elves hadn't been able to find much on magical snakes and he suspected that was because the books had been banned from the reading material that the guards or the Ministry were willing to permit him to have.

"These ones are mixed because we can't tell them apart from their Muggle cousins," the shopkeeper said coming up to them. "Their common name is Milk Snake or Kingsnake, never could tell much different about them. They make excellent pets because their primary nature is to be docile. These are captive bread and are the kind of snake that like to be handled regularly, which make them good for children to have. Some Potions Masters will purchase pairs of the magical ones in order to obtain their eggs for potions."

"You can't tell which is which," Harry asked.

"No," the shopkeeper said. "That's why there was a slight fuss in this corner. Our new summer assistant mixed them up thinking that they were the same kind. Our vet is booked through to next week and we won't be able to separate them until then. At least the magical ones will choose their witch or wizard, but what about the families that want something non-magical. I don't know what to do."

"I can separate them if you like," Harry told the shopkeeper.

"If you can, I'd greatly appreciate it," he said. "In fact, if you do, you can pick out a mating pair of your choice for a reduced rate."

"No thanks! Just show me where the non-magical ones are to go," Harry said. Another tank just beside this one was empty. "I guess you wanted to show the shoppers that sometimes there is no difference between the Magical World and the Muggle World."

"That's right, I'll leave you to it then," the shopkeeper said walking away. "I don't want to distract you from it."

Harry looked around him and noticed that Neville was looking at him intensely while his old uncle was elsewhere in the shop. The Boy-Who-Lived placed a finger against his mouth in the universal motion of asking another to keep something secret. The other boy stared at him and then nodded.

(…_Hello young snakes_…) Harry hissed in the language of snakes. (…_Could I ask all that are not magical to move into the tank next door please? You'll find new homes a lot sooner that way_…)

Neville was wide-eyed and nearly gaped at the fact that the other boy had the attention of all the snakes in the tank. Then he was further surprised to see a long curving branch connect both tanks and then half the snakes moved to the one marked, '_Non-Magical Milk Snakes_.' The connecting branch was then removed and the tops to the tanks were replaced.

(…_Thank you_…) Harry said. He was about to leave the area when two of the snakes appeared on the top of the tank for the magical version of the species.

(…_You will take us with you_…) The white snake told him.

The black snake then spoke up and said imperially. (…_You will name us and keep us with you_…)

"I…what…," Harry sputtered in surprise.

"What did they say," Neville asked in a whispering voice.

"They told me I have to take them with me," Harry replied in a slight rueful indignation. "Actually they are ordering me to take them."

Neville smirked and then giggled. "I guess you'd better get them," he said. "I'll go find you a portable terrarium for them, one or two."

"One," Harry said holding out his hand for the two little snakes to curl together around his wrist. "They're a pair," he shook his head. This had never happened before. He'd never once thought of getting snakes to be his companions.

'_I suppose it's because I was made to feel ashamed of my gift,_' he thought. '_Not this time around though and Neville's reaction is the same as it always was…accepting of the difference._'

He picked up an empty basket and then found a tank to be their home. He also found a snake tank kit with basically similar items like a pool, warming rock and vegetation for his snakes. He made sure that he purchased the right foods and treats for them too, as they were hissing at him what they liked and didn't like.

The boys then both entered Ollivander's knowing that nothing could make their day any stranger. They were wrong. The old man in the wand shop was in heaven with these two powerful youngsters in his shop.

"Wonderful, wonderful," Ollivander said as Harry swung another mismatching wand. "I love challenges and to have two in row, I'm so happy."

Neville's uncle Algie had encouraged the boy to try to find a wand. The number wands had depressed the boy until he was told that it was because of his power that he was difficult to match. Eventually he found one of Cypress with the core of Whomping Willow Sap, Unicorn Hair and the sliver of a griffon's claw. "Wonderful," Ollivander had said. "Strong in growing magics and good for those interested in Herbology or Potions. An excellent match for you young man and the wand has made its choice."

Harry sighed and waved another wand. He wondered of the Holly & Phoenix feather wand even existed in this world and then he thought that maybe he was no longer suited to it. Then he thought that maybe Falkes never donated his tail-feathers or that he'd only donated one feather. '_The outcome may turn out to be far more interesting,_' he thought. '_But which one would suit me for now…_'

"Oh," Harry said just before his fingers wrapped around the wand that Ollivander had asked him to take from the box. The flash of magic was intense and could be felt several stores down on either side of the Wandmakers Shop. The Boy-Who-Lived quickly directed the energy into an unspoken, unformed Patronus type Spell of well-being. If anyone had been depressed, walking down that side of the street, they were no longer upset or despondent.

Ollivander was jubilant and almost acting, as though he'd take some kind of happy drug. "Wonderful, wonderful," the old man said. "I think we can expect great things from you. Yes, yes, great things."

He wrote down the wand specifications, gave them to Harry and waved them out of his shop, saying, "Yes, I expect to see more great things coming from you Mr. Potter."

Harry hung his head when Neville turned to look at him, same as his Grand-Uncle. "Please, I'm just Harry," he said softly. "Don't look at me like that, please."

Neville blinked and then said, "Well, of course you are just Harry." The other boy looked up and that's when Neville realized why Harry was wearing a Muggle cap on his head. He smiled and then asked, "So what House do you think you'll be sorted to at Hogwarts."

"I'm not planning to be sorted until my fourth year," Harry told him.

"Yes," Algie said and pumped his hand in the air. "You've noticed it."

"Yes," Harry said confused. "It is in the book Hogwarts: A History."

"It is, but there seems to be an undetectable spell on the book," Algie said leading them to the ice cream parlour where he'd promised to purchase them a treat for getting their wands together. "No one notices that section of the book unless the have an older un-revised or non-updated version of the book."

"I figured that," Harry said. "I found a copy in one of my family's vaults and chose not to have it updated."

"What's it say," Neville asked.

"It says that since the time of the Founders the mandatory sorting into Houses only occurred at the beginning of a student's fourth year," Harry said. "Not during their first year. It was only within the past one hundred or so years that first years were being sorted to see if it was a better method of promoting House Affiliation. It's due to become a Law at the end of our second year and that is only if no student has selected to follow the old form."

"Really," Neville said. "Why would such a change happen?"

"To separate you children much earlier," Algie said. "It was proposed in the hopes that like minded children would be happier."

"It doesn't work," Harry said. "Whoever thought of it forgot that some things, like prejudices would happen much earlier in a person's life too. Since I don't want to make a decision about a person, which depends on their House in school, I'm not going to be sorted. I don't want people making such presumptions of me either. That's why I wrote to every member of the Board of Governors and told them that I'm going to refuse to be sorted."

Algernon Longbottom, looked that the Boy-Who-Lived and then cackled. "You wrote to…a…all of them?"

Harry nodded and explained. "I kind of had to, since they're the ones sitting on that decision to make it permanent of not. So far it looks like they've forgotten about that ruling, so I suspected that it was buried under some other thing that they were willing to approve without looking into the matter further."

"That's so like anything political," Algie nodded. "Neville," he said to his grand-nephew. "If you choose to follow Harry's decision, I will support you in this. In fact I'll actively take on my sister to see that you're not made to do anything you don't want."

Neville gulped and looked down at the portable terrarium holding his new pet. "Thank you uncle," he said in a choked voice. "That means a lot to me." He then looked up at Harry and said, "May I borrow your copy of Hogwarts: A History? I'd like to read that section of it and compare it to our updateable version."

"Sure," Harry snapped his fingers calling for Rose. She appeared wearing a pair of loose pants, long tunic shirt with a canvas apron filled with colourful oil paint spatter. "Rose, dear could you get the 1756 copy of '_Hogwart: A History_' from my vault. Ask Griphook to get it for you and then bring it back here."

She curtsied and then left them to continue taking their ice-cream. "I've never…" Algie started and the stopped as Rose popped back and signed.

(…Will that be all Master…) She asked in sign language.

(…Take these guys with you…) He signed back and handed her the snakes, plus their kits. (…Find them a nice corner of the room and introduce them to Hedwig. Thank you…) She nodded and then popped away.

"Why was she dressed like that," Neville asked. "I've never seen a house-elf dressed in clothes like that before."

"That's cause under her bonded conditions I won't allow her to be dressed in something sub-humane," Harry said. "She makes her own clothes and does actually have a kind of uniform for whenever she's on duty. That was just her off-duty clothing."

"Off-duty," Algie asked. "I've never heard of such a thing."

"Well I can't just have her stand about and just wait for my beck and call, now can I," Harry said. "I'd never do that to a human, so why would I do that to another sentient creature, even if they are magically wired to be servile to wizards."

The clock in the middle of the Alley rang out the time and they had to part ways. Neville asked before he left the boy, "Can I owl you?"

"Of course," Harry said standing up, as they were getting ready to return to their homes. He watched them Floo away and then he returned to his room in Privet Drive.

Harry - James - Potter - Harry - James – Potter

**Flashforward**

Harry looked at his packed trunk and remember the note that he'd received from Ollivander. "_Blended Basilisk Fang and Holly branch, with core of Goblin refined Lantha Ore encasing a Dark Phoenix Flight feather_," he'd read. "_Caution: Light refracting ore, chances of splitting spells when casting higher spell levels._" (...i...)

'_I can never be normal now,_' he thought. '_Then again, I know too much anyway and I'm not truly eleven years old. At least Holly and a Phoenix feather is still a part of my wand, but the extras I'm going to have to research. I didn't know that goblins refined things. I thought they only worked the Banks._'

Then he looked at the pair of snakes that he'd yet to name. He'd told them that naming things was an important process because it was equally important to find a good name. However he'd already mentally named them.

He stood over them and said, "Ivoire and Nox." The little white snake was an albino with pinkish eyes and that was the female of the two. The black snake was male. (…_You're names are Ivoire and Nox_…) He hissed at them and their tiny feeding dishes were parsel-spelled with their names. (…_Goodnight_…)

(…_Sleep well young Harry_…) Ivoire said. Nox hissed the same, as he curled around his future mate.

Soon everyone in the room was asleep waiting for the next day to arrive, since it would be their Master's first day of attending a real magical school.

Harry - James - Potter - Harry - James - Potter

**TBC...**

(...i...) Harry's new wand – _Goblin refined Lantha Ore_ based on "Lanthanum", a true "muggle" ore centre, see web site: en dot Wikipedia dot org/ wiki/ Rare _earth_ element (remove the space and change dot).


	8. Chapter 8

**CH 8**

Harry - James - Potter - Harry - James - Potter

Catching the train wasn't difficult this time around. He ignored the Muggles and didn't bother hovering in the station area to overhear the loud attempt by a certain red-headed family to gain access to him by taking advantage of his supposed ignorance.

In fact he was there early to meet a man that had once hunted him down and generally raised the most spoiled git of a best friend he'd ever had, until he'd been placed in prison. The man's son was one of the last to believe in Harry and for that alone he chose to meet the Malfoys this year instead of putting it off for another year.

Harry walked confidently through the barrier. He never altered the form of his clothing and so it was a ball cap wearing boy in clothing that looked used and patched that walked up to the blond haired family that were waiting in the station house restaurant. It was more of a quaint little café atmosphere in there rather than the pub feel of the Leaky Cauldron.

"Mr. Malfoy," Harry said. He lifted his cap up and looked the man in the eyes. "My name's Harry Potter, you asked to meet with me?"

Narcissa frowned and did her son at the poor looking Muggle boy that had walked up to their table. They both gasped when he told them his name and both received a quirky grin in their direction, as though he could tell what was going through their minds.

"No way," Draco said in tone of disbelief. "The papers said you were spoiled and well taken care of, you look like street urchin."

"Street urchins don't dress as well as I do," Harry told them matter-of-factly. "You look like the spoiled type and what do you mean papers? It can't be from the '_New Daily Prophet_'."

"Draco," Lucius said in a tone that told his son that his input was no longer required.

"Yes Father," Draco said looking down at the table's top. Then he looked outside and saw a bright red steam engine train pull into the station, drawing numerous string train cars.

Harry wasn't surprised by the way they were acting. It was something that he'd noticed the Draco of his past doing too. He turned his attention back to the man that had been looking at him the entire time, making notes of his appearance and the way he stood.

"You asked for this meeting sir," the Boy-Who-Lived said. "Was something the matter with my letter?"

Lucius looked at the boy for a moment longer and then said, "I've had time to review your letter and to meet with all of Hogwarts' Board of Governors in the matter you presented." He paused to see the boy just looking at him with no emotion on his face. "We've come to the conclusion that you are, indeed, correct. You needn't be sorted until your fourth year of education. However, I'm wondering if you've come to a conclusion as to why the change was demanded."

"Oh that," Harry said in a casual tone. "I'm thinking that whoever added that change wanted to get rid of the Ritual Program from the Hogwarts curriculum, since the Sorting is technically a magical ritual. Also without the program, no student would ever think to learn about summoning their personal familiar or to beware of those older than them that may have studied rituals in private. Very dangerous that!"

"Indeed," Lucius' eyebrows rose at the explanation, even his wife and son had been surprised by that explanation. "Why is it dangerous?"

"Studying rituals in private is dangerous if the person learning them is lazy and prone to skip steps," Harry said. "Any ritual could be botched or else something could be summoned and set loose on the world that's not ready to handle such a thing, like demons."

"You seem to have thought this through," Lucius commented. He received the typical pre-teen shrug of indifference and no further comment or '_volunteered_' information. '_That boy's not giving anything away,_' he thought. '_There's something very Slytherin about his methods._'

The man looked at his son and nodded, "Draco you may do as you wish during the Sorting. Make sure that if you refuse to be sorted and trouble is caused by the Professors to speak to Snape. He'll contact me, as I've notified the Board to be prepared to go to Hogwarts to address the issue." He turned to Harry and said the same. "There is a Potions Master at the school that will see to it that I'm informed about this situation, if you had a house-elf they could have popped over to notify me."

"I do have one," Harry said. "I can send her to you at the first sign of trouble, if you like."

"Good idea," Lucius said.

Harry nodded and called out, "Rose." The house-elf popped up next to her master. "This is Lucius Malfoy. Tonight there a possibility that we may have some difficulties with the Headmaster or some of the Professors, so you'll be called on to deliver a notice to him."

Rose looked at the man, stared at him and then commented. (...He's not all that _Light Wizard_ Master Harry. He might strike me...)

(...If he does anything stupid like trying to hit you, you are permitted to defend yourself...) Harry signed back. (...I'll let him know...) The house-elf nodded and popped away.

"She's mute," Harry told the Malfoys that had been staring at the way the boy waved his hands about in a seemingly random way. He turned to Lucius and said, "If I send her to you, you cannot hit her for any reason, as she's been given full permission to defend herself. Perhaps it would be easier if you had a card."

"I've a calling card," Lucius said pulled out a dark matte blue card with silver writing. He wrote the word, '_Hogwarts_' on the back of the card. "Have her bring this to me. I'll be located in Hogsmeade with the other members of the Board, just in case."

"Yes sir," Harry said and tucked the card into the back pocket of his jeans. "Was that all you wanted to see me about sir?"

"For now, yes," the man told him with a calculating look. Incredibly the boy bowed properly, noted their surprised expressions, smirked and left the blond family to go find a place on the train in order to go to school.

"By the way he was dressed, I thought he hadn't been trained in etiquette," Draco commented, as he watched which train car the boy entered.

"That just goes to show you to never judge a person on their outward appearance," his mother said. "You'd better find yourself a place on the train, quickly before the best seats are taken."

"Yes mother," the blond boy said. His trunk was in his father's pocket and he asked, "May I have my trunk, Father?"

"Of course," Lucius said and handed his son the trunk. "The spells on it will undo as soon as it is in an upper rack of the car. We will take our leave here."

"Yes sir," Draco said. "About the Sorting..."

"I will not be angry or upset by any choice you make," Lucius said. "The choice is yours. I do know that whether you are sorted now or later, you'll still be in Slytherin."

"Of course I'll be a Slytherin, Father," Draco replied in a haughty tone. His father squeezed his shoulder and then the boy knew what his father wanted. He wanted his son to protest being sorted in the first year. He looked to his mother who nodded to him and opened her arms for a final hug.

She hugged him and whispered in his ear, "Check your pockets."

"Goodbye," Draco said and walked over to the train cars. He chose one where he'd seen one of his acquaintances go in. "Blaise," he said, putting his small trunk up in the rack. He watched it expand and then he checked his pockets. He grinned his mother had snuck in '_Hogwarts: A History_', edition 1803. He opened it up to find the passage in question. He showed his friend. "Read this!"

Blaise Zabini read the passage and frowned. "I didn't see that in the new editions," he commented and then pulled out his. He read the passage and noticed that his eyes kept drifting to another section of the page. He sneered at his book and tossed it to the ground.

"There's a spell on that," he said and pulled Draco's copy to read once more. He looked up and knew what the boy was going to do. "Do your parents know?"

"Yes," Draco said. "It was an interesting conversation." He looked conspiratorially at his friend and said casually, "I wonder if we can get other first years to follow this idea, before we get to Hogwarts."

Blaise paused to think about it for a moment and then suggested, "Let me get my older brother, who's a seventh year, to make copies of this part of your book." He grinned and then said, "We can then take the copies to each car that has a first year to pass them out. I hear that Harry Potter is supposed to be in our year, do you think that he'd join us in passing these out. If the other students think that he'll be in on it, they might follow his lead."

"I _know_ that this is what he's going to do," Draco said. "You better find your brother, first." The other boy nodded and left the car with the book he'd been shown. About five minutes later he returned with an older boy.

"Are you sure you want to do this," Roman asked. (...i...) He received two nods and then he said, "All right then." He pulled out some stationary from Blaise's trunk in order to copy the part of the book onto something else. "It's better than conjuring something from nothing and you'll get more from this. I copied the cover information, like the printing date, so that everyone knows when it was printed."

"Will you teach me that spell for school," Blaise asked. "It might be easier to keep better notes."

"Maybe when you're in third year," his brother told him. "You need to learn some other things first. Owl mother for more parchment or else tell me what you need and I'll pick some up for you in Hogsmeade for a fee."

"All right," Blaise grudgingly agreed. "Thanks for doing this Roman."

"Oh, I'm doing this so that I can enjoy the looks on the Headmaster's face," Roman grinned, showing his teeth. "That old fart needs something challenging at the school to rock his serene and twinkly-eyed attitude."

The boys grinned at him and nodded. They were going to have fun with this. They left their car in order to find Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, in order to see of he'd been interested in using his fame for the purpose of creating confusion at Hogwarts.

Harry - James - Potter - Harry - James - Potter

Harry looked at the parchment that he'd enjoyed handing out to the other first years on the train, along with his new friends Neville, Draco and Blaise. The only one that didn't seem interested was a young Hermione Granger and a few others like Ron Weasley or some loud kid named Zacharias Smith.

The first years were all standing in the anti-chamber of the Great Hall waiting to go before the school's student body in order to either be sorted in their first year or to deny the sorting until their fourth year of school. The ghosts have made their appearance and the last one to leave was the one that was called the '_Bloody Baron_.'

Harry called out to it, "Sir Ghost may I ask you a question?"

The ghost looked at the boy with the unique scar on his brow. "Yes, young man."

"Is it true that students were never sorted before their fourth year, I mean up until maybe about a hundred or hundred fifty years ago," Harry asked. The first years were all focussed on the ghost since the question needed an answer and it was obvious that the ghost had been around long enough to know.

"Yes that is true," the Bloody Baron replied. "No student has protested the change and so the change to the school law and curriculum will come into effect at the end of your second year." The children all had quizzical looks and some were whispering among themselves. "That is unless a first year chooses not to be sorted and then the proposed changes will fail. The curriculum will revert to the old form, which I believe means that Rituals, Etiquette, Magical Art and Theoretical Magical Creatures Studies will have to be made available once again."

Professor Minerva McGonagall re-appeared and had noticed that the first years were all carrying a set of parchment papers. "Is everyone ready?"

"Yes ma'am," several of the first years said.

"Thank you sir," Harry said to the ghost with a cheeky smile that told the ghost that things were going to be changed in the school.

"You're most Welcome young man," the ghost said with a gentle smile, despite his gruesome appearance. "I look forward to seeing your decisions children." He drifted into the Great Hall smirking, as though he'd been brought in to a secret.

"Follow me children," Professor McGonagall said. "This is the sorting hat. When I call your names, you'll sit on this stool and when I place the hat on your head it will sort you into the appropriate House for you." She held the hat up for the children to look at it and then set it down on the stool.

The Hat was connected magically to various things and residents of the school. Its squinty leather eyes blinked when it received some very interesting information from the Bloody Baron. "Oh, ho," it said out loud. "No song today. Changes in are the winds, trim that sail and let the waters set your course. We'll set sail once those that choose to be sorted at this time, are done. The school's Houses are Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor and Slytherin, choose now or choose later, I'll sort those that wish it."

The Sorting Hat was silent after that.

Professor McGonagall and all other Professors had been surprised that there was no song promoting unity among the Houses of the school. The Head of Gryffindor House looked at her list and called out for the first child to step forward. "Abbott, Hannah!"

Hannah Abbott, a general well-looking child with a happy disposition walked forward and said with a curtsey, "I choose to be sorted at the beginning of my fourth year, thank you."

Minerva looked up sharply at the Headmaster. The old man immediately stood up and said, "Any child that does not get sorted cannot attend this school. So please young Miss Abbott, take your place under the Hat."

Hannah looked at the man and then looked at Harry, who walked forward. He'd already sent for Lucius Malfoy and whatever Board Members he'd rounded up in Hogsmeade. "The book Hogwarts: A History states that students were sorted only at the beginning of their fourth year," he held up the parchment copy of the book that they'd handed out on the train. He gave it to McGonagall and explained to the others in the Great Hall. "We are within our rights to refrain from being separated from our friends for the first three full years of our schooling here at Hogwarts. Those that want to be sorted can step forward, but those of us that choose not to be sorted should stand aside."

Twenty-five of the thirty new students, moved to the side of the Great Hall, leaving only five first years standing in front of the Sorting Hat. It was then that the doors to the Great Hall opened up and in walked '_all_' of the members of Hogwarts' Board of Governors. That was a first for the school as well.

"I hope that we're not intruding," Lucius Malfoy stepped forward with the other members. "We apologize for the delay, but we have been reviewing the situation and proposed changes, since it has been brought to our attention recently this past summer."

"Mr. Malfoy," the Headmaster said, standing up. "Now is not the best time."

"Actually now is the perfect time," Mr. Malfoy said. "Here is our decision regarding the changes that had been proposed by Headmaster Black's predecessor, the Headmistress Adora Crankfell. We believe that the reason for the proposed changes occurred during her term as Headmistress, were made to help reduce costs to the school's curriculum and was to only be a temporary solution. However since that time, the followings courses that used to be introduced in a specific year, have been dropped systematically: Etiquette year three, Magical Arts year two, Theoretical Magical Creature Studies year two, Rituals year two, Alchemy year one, as it is a precursor for Rituals, Basic Maths and Accounting year one... need I go on?"

"What does the board intend," the Headmaster said.

"The re-instatement of most, if not all the missing courses," Lucius Malfoy said. "The Ministry of Education has already petitioned the International Magical Guilds in these fields, to obtain Professors to fill in most of those positions this year for a two-year contract basis. They will be arriving sometime this week. Hopefully by the time my son and most of these first years reach their fourth year, when they finally are sorted, they'll be able to compete in International Magical Competitions related to scholastic achievements in these areas."

"Do all Board Members feel the same," the Headmaster asked looking at them, wondering if any were coerced to come here.

"We do," the men and women of the Board stated. Their collective agreement, forced the change to be accepted, since that was how their influence was supposed to work at the school. It was just very rare that they could agree on anything.

Lucius walked up to the Headmaster and handed him a scroll saying low tone for the old man and those near him to understand what he was saying, "No child is to be removed from this school for refusing to be sorted in their first year from this day forward."

He stepped back and said loud enough for the others to hear, "That contains the list of the Professors coming to the school and their requirements for supplies. Included is a list of donated funds in order to ensure that the appropriate supplies are available for the children's first day of class. We'll leave you now to continue on with your announcements and evening meal. Enjoy the feast children."

The man strode out of the Great Hall, bowing to the Head Table in general. The other members of the Board did the same and the Headmaster sat down at the table, unsure of where to place the children that didn't want to be sorted. The five that had wanted to be sorted were placed in their respective Houses.

Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley went to Gryffindor. Zacharias Smith went to Hufflepuff. Michael Corner and Terry Boot both were sorted into Ravenclaw. The other first years refused the sorting and so the tables that had been set at the front of the House tables were magically moved. An additional row was added to the middle of the Houses and set for the un-sorted first years.

The twenty-five first years all sat at that table and looked up to the Head Table in order to listen to the rest of the announcements.

The Professors had all been surprised that the school was quick to accommodate the changes, but the Hall also expanded to fit all the tables. Attention was called to the whispering students and soon the Headmaster had given his speech about the Forbidden Forest being '_forbidden_', as well as the '_no pranks or spells allowed_' in the corridors of the school and finally the one about a '_dire and violent_' death should they trespass onto the closed section of the third floor corridor.

The food was served and then after the school song was done Professor McGonagall was at a loss of where to put the new first years. A note was popped to her by the Head House-elf of Hogwarts stating that the General Dorms had been re-opened, aired and prepared for the new children. Minerva had not been aware that there were general dorms. At least the note had a map to the location, so she'd be able to guide the children.

"First years not sorted, follow me," she said, leading them up five flights of stairs, left for three corridors and then down half another flight of stairs. She came to a stone statue effigy of the school's motto and said with a frown, "Banana Cream Pie."

The first years giggled, but quickly followed her into the general dorms. The stairs for the children's sleeping quarters were at the back of the room. "Stay here while I check out the dorms."

"I knew that Granger girl was going to be sorted," Draco said to Blaise. Harry and Neville joined them, as they had been part of the parchment distributors.

"She's seems to be quite set in her ways," Harry said. "You should have seen the number of books she wanted to get at the book shop, when her parents couldn't even tell which ones were level appropriate or not, for her."

"Level appropriate," Susan came forward to ask.

"As a first year and a muggle-born she'd have had no exposure to magic before now," Blaise said.

"That's true," Theodore Nott agreed. "If she was picking books from the upper levels of the shop, then she'd have been in big trouble if she had tried any of the spells."

Professor McGonagall came back down and said, "Right then. This will be your common room. The password to these dorms will not to be given out to the other students in the other Houses. It will change on a bi-monthly basis so be sure to check what it is on the notice board. The notice board will announce any changes to schedules, additional lessons and any other pending announcement that may come up. I will review the new classes with the other Professors as they arrive and your schedules may change according. It is unfortunate that as a general dorm you'll not gain or lose House points. The Head Boy and Head Girl will check up on you periodically."

"Now," she said. "Stand up and follow me." She led them to an opening that showed them that they had another set of stairs to climb, "Boys on the left and girls on the right. The rooms have been assigned to you for now, but if you're not comfortable with your roommates, you may write a note, leave it on your assigned work desk and the changes will be done for you. I suggest you try it for a month. Each room has its own bathing and loo facility therefore no excuses about a lack of hygiene will be tolerated. Make your way down to the Great Hall in the morning and we'll see about class placements. You'll not be attending all classes with your friends at the same time."

"But that would have happened anyway if we were sorted," Padma Patil said. "Now the only true issue, is the fact that the Professors can't give or take away points, which I think might be a good thing."

"We'll just see how that works," the Professor said. "Now since you're first years, you'll have a curfew of eight pm where you need to be in your common room. We do expect you to go to bed at reasonable hours, so be warned that the lights in the commons rooms and dorms will extinguish at nine-thirty during the week, from Sunday to Thursday and ten-thirty on Fridays and Saturdays. So pay attention to the clock." She pointed out the clock above the mantle of the fireplace. "I suggest you go to bed now in order to be aware for your classes tomorrow. You've had a long day of traveling."

"Good night Professor," some of the first years told her. She was left in the almost bare common room, but she knew that the school was looking forward to furnishing the room appropriately. That was part of the magic for the school and she also knew that the next time she entered the room it would be drastically changed.

Minerva sighed and then thought, '_How am I going to sort them into classes, now?_'

Harry - James - Potter - Harry - James - Potter

**TBC...**

(...i...) I know that in the books that Blaise is an only child, but for this part, I needed an unquestioning older student and an older sibling is the way to go in this case.


	9. Chapter 9

**CH 9**

Harry - James - Potter - Harry - James - Potter

In the General Dorm, all students were placed two or three to a room. Each attached bathroom had the same number of shower stalls per student in the room. That first day of class was confusing for many of the students and the new Professors, since during the night four Professors had arrived.

Even those in second and third year felt the effects of the changes to classes, either in the length of their regular classes or by subject. They were subjected to some of the basics that they had missed, so some of the classes designated for first years, like Alchemy basics, they were actually comprised of all three years.

'_Now that had been an interesting change,_' Harry thought. He was still put out that some of the first year boys were not talking to him because they couldn't apply for Quidditch. It was only the third week of the year, but the House teams had posted their tryout times and that's when the General Dorm first years came to the realization that if they stayed in there that they'd have to wait until year four to try-out for a Quidditch Team at their school.

He sighed and then personally petitioned Madam Hooch, who he'd been told was the flying instructor, to book the Quidditch pitch every Sunday afternoon for the General Dorm students. He'd even asked if she'd be available to oversee those afternoons for them to ensure the safety of the flyers.

The woman then looked at the boy's proposal and asked, "You'd already thought of this hadn't you."

"I got to thinking about this in the summer," Harry confessed. "If there was going to be a General Dorm for unsorted first years then that might mean that we can't join a House team. But there's nothing that says we can't learn the moves to play in Quidditch positions. If we get good enough we then could maybe be used as a practice team against the House Teams. I also figured that not all first years were going to like flying on a broom anyway, so full afternoon for those that want to fly or just to practice flying could do so without being pressured onto a team or into playing Quidditch."

"Very well," Madam Hooch said. "I'll find a colleague that will help me keep an eye on the lot of you."

"Um," he hedged.

"Yes," she prompted.

"Maybe bringing in a Healer in training for the afternoon too could be useful," Harry suggested. "I wouldn't want to take the medi-witch away from her infirmary and this way the student Healers would get in some practice, just in emergency situations, of course."

"I'll talk to Madam Pomfrey about that," Madam Hooch said. "I'll send a notice to the Announcement Board in the General Dorm to tell you when you can start using the pitch for flying. I'll even allow access to the school's brooms for that time frame."

"Thank you ma'am," Harry said with a smile, he'd forgotten about brooms.

"Go on now," she shooed him away from her office.

The portrait in the woman's office was that of one of the Founders of Quidditch. "He's quite right to ask for the pitch and for the emergency service of a healer," the man told her. "Just think, if the brooms see use then maybe you can teach the children something more than just flying, like broom maintenance or creation."

"We can only hope. For now we'll just wait and see on that, shall we," she said. She didn't want to get ahead of herself or of the children. The funny thing was that since there were only five sorted first years, she made them come together for flying lessons. She then sorted the General Dorm children alphabetically into four groups, in order to teach them how to fly for the first five lessons.

A week later Harry was forgiven when the Dorm found out that they had the entire Quidditch Pitch booked for Sunday afternoons and that none of the Houses could interfere with them or their activities.

Harry had even researched broom games that were not related to Quidditch in order to get everyone used to flying so that they could be deemed passable flyers by Madam Hooch. It was a good plan and soon the Quidditch pitch was sectioned off in half with one half being used by casual flyers and then other half being used to play mock-Quidditch with an extremely slowed snitch, but still programmed for unpredictability.

Harry - James - Potter - Harry - James - Potter

Harry's favourite class had to be Defence Against the Dark Arts, though. It was in this class that he'd discovered a fun a torturous game called '_Parasitic Headache_'. Basically his goal in this single-player game was to see how long it would take to give Voldemort, the parasite on the back of Quirrell's head, a headache that would cause the stuttering man to cancel his class. However he had to remain unpredictable

So he couldn't play the game in every class, but whenever he felt the man trying to get into his mind he changed the game and played something he called Rat Bash. It was a game that he once saw his cousin playing at a fair where Dudley used an oversized hammer to pound the heads of hamsters or groundhogs that popped out of a hole.

In Harry's mind he pulled Voldemort into the game and forced him to be take the form of a red-eyed rat head which he bopped, quite successfully too. It was a skill that he'd developed back in prison had used on the guards over time. It had the added bonus of causing dizziness, nausea and of course a very strong headache that even some of the strongest potions could not cure.

Harry - James - Potter - Harry - James - Potter

Potions class still wasn't his favourite class, but at least this time none of the students in the class sabotaged another's potion. The only reason he didn't like it was because of Snape and the man's attitude regarding him. Detentions were the norm for him and so he drew up on his old former Dursley memories to recall how to clean things by hand.

Severus Snape was confused by the Boy-Who-Lived. He derided the boy by calling him the '_newest celebrity_' and the boy never reacted other than to raise an eye-brow at him. '_He only knew where to find a bezoar,_' the man thought. '_He didn't seem to care about the other questions, but the bezoar one seemed to have been the one that mattered...why?_'

He was watching the boy work and this was the third time that he'd given the boy detention in order to show the boy that he wasn't about to get a free ride at the school. The boy's grades were more than all right in his other classes, but it was like the boy wasn't putting any effort into his and that irked his teaching senses. It was nearing the middle of October and it just couldn't continue.

"Potter cease doing that and sit down in front of me," the Potions Master called to Harry. The boy did as he was told and then the Professor asked, "Why are you not putting any effort into your potions essays?"

Harry frowned and then said, "I don't understand. I have been putting an effort into them."

"Do not lie to me, Mr. Potter," Severus said, putting three scrolls down in front of him. "I have three of the ones that count to your towards your final grade for the first semester. Now why are you showing an effort in every class, but this one?"

Harry was still frowning, but now he stood up and asked, "May I see those?" He opened one and immediately noticed the handwriting. It wasn't his essay, but it did seem to have his name on top. He snorted and wondered who was responsible for switching the essay signatures. "Did you switch the signatures on the essays?"

"Of course not," Severus sneered at him. "I'd be a pretty poor Professor, if I sabotaged my own students."

"I agree," Harry said. He snapped his fingers called his house-elf to him. "Rose, please get me the pouch where I store my copyrighted essays." She curtseyed, came back in less than three minutes and then popped away when he dismissed her with a nod of his head. "We need to test the dates of when the ink was used for these essays that you seemed to have marked as mine."

"Very well," the man said. "Lay them down on the table." He said a charm that would cause the date to float above the essays that had been graded. "All three were started and finished the night before the essay was due."

"Right," Harry said. "Please look at the copyright date on these and then tell me who handed in an essay like this one."

"Copyright date of completion," Severus muttered. "Five days before they needed to be handed in and the contents of the essay," he pulled out three other essays. "They are word for word the same as Ronald Weasley's. How did you know that was not your essay?"

"Handwriting," Harry said. "That is not my handwriting and there's no way that I'd make the mistake of even thinking that Asphodel and Monkshood were two different plants."

Professor Snape looked up sharply and asked, "Why didn't you answer that question on the first day of class?"

"So you could claim that I was trying to show off, no thank you," Harry said. He looked at the essays and asked, "Are the marks now on the school records?"

"They are," Severus told him with a frustrated sigh.

"I guess I'll have to use my Family Seal and watermarked parchments for my essays from now on," Harry said with a sigh. "Or else use a total non-tramper spell, but that'll prevent you from even marking the papers.

"Or else ensure that the copyright is visible," the Professor suggested.

Harry glared at the man with magic exuding from his pores and projecting strong magical anger at the man who was surprised by what he was sensing. "What do you think these are," he asked pointing to the HJP with the copyright symbol and date of activation, in the top and bottom corners of the essays turned in by Ron Weasley. "Did you not notice them?"

The Potions Master flinched, since the anger felt close to that of the Dark Lord's, but he only said, "Don't take that tone with me, child. I thought you might have lent the boy some parchment."

Harry snorted, released the magic and said, "A copyright mark would not have been placed on the paper before I'd lent it. That is if I were to ever lend that prat anything."

The first years, potions classes were the only ones that were not organized by name block. It was the Headmaster's suggestion to mix up at least one of the classes, hence, having a block of students that didn't mix well with the others. The potions class contained all of the Sorted first years with Draco, Neville, Harry and a few others from the General Dorm, in the same class.

"Very well Mr. Potter," Severus said. "I will keep these for the time being. I will speak to the boy's Head of House in this matter and we'll discover the spell he's been using. You might not be the only one that he's been doing this to."

"Thank you sir," Harry said.

"You might have notified me of this before," Severus told him.

"I would have, if the paper I had received back did not contain my own handwriting," Harry told him, showing the first paper returned. "The score is P on this."

The Potions Master took it and then nodded. "Yes that is the work that was turned in by Weasley," he paused in thought and then said, "I wonder if he still has the original one that I graded as your paper. Well since you have an essay due in four days time, but considering this situation, I'm going to ask to you to do it on some other topic. We can officially catch him then, do you agree."

"I will do it," Harry agreed.

"Good," Severus said in a calculating tone. He took a piece of parchment and wrote out the subject that the boy was supposed to write about. "You're free to leave at this time in order to get the books you need from the Library."

Harry looked at the topic and read it out loud, "_Find three potions that contain snake parts and analyze the ingredient integration, include the recipes as part of your discussion_." He frowned and then looked at his Professor to ask, "May I have a three day access pass to the Restricted Section. There are a couple of books there that might provide a different point of view."

"How would you know that, Mr. Potter," his Professor asked him.

"I've read the titles on their bindings," Harry said. "Madam Pince has a card catalogue that contains all the table of contents and indexes of the books in the Library's shelves. I was browsing a few titles that looked interesting and I think that there are several that will prove very informative."

Professor Snape was curious to see what kind of work that Harry would be able to provide, so it was under extreme reluctance that he signed a three day permission slip for the boy's potions research. "Please be sure to quote the books, paragraphs and pages for your references," the man told him. "It will provide a significant measure of difference to your essay against those of your fellow students."

"Yes, sir," Harry said tucking away the absolutely rare permission slip from Professor Snape and his new essay assignment. Believing that the conversation was over he was about to return to his detention.

"Leave that," his Professor told him. "You may go now in order to get to the library and your dorm before curfew tonight."

Harry looked at him, smiled and said, "Thank you sir." He grabbed his book bag and before he left he said, "Good evening, Sir."

Snape looked up at that, but the boy was gone so quickly it was as though the boy had flown out of there.

Harry - James - Potter - Harry - James - Potter

Days later, during Harry's potions class the scheme was acted upon. As soon as all essays were handed in, Snape had them working on '_Surprise Quiz_' or '_Pop Quiz_'. This was an excuse to quickly peer at the papers handed in by Potter and a few of the other students.

The quiz would also show him who had learnt the materials and who needed further help in his subject.

The students not surprised at getting a Pop Quiz at this point in time. The man was completely unpredictable and they had tried to get a sense of when that kind of disaster was going to happen.

Professor Snape had noticed that Weasley's topic for his essay was the one that had been independently assigned to Harry just four days ago. He wasn't going to stand for this and luckily he'd been able to convince the Gryffindor Head of House to be in attendance to today's class. He called out, "Time's up, quills down now!"

He nearly smirked at the last minute scramble from his students to get the last of their answers down. "I said quills down now, Mr. Boot," Severus said again. He used his wand to call all papers to his desk. "Let your supplies in your bags. We are about to have a serious discussion."

Severus glared at young Ron Weasley who gulped and looked confused. "Cheating in this school is not tolerated." He marched up and down the aisles of the class. "Cheating or deliberately sabotaging another student in not only frowned upon, but it is dealt with harshly."

He returned to the front of the room and held out Ron's essay. "Mr. Weasley," he said with a glower. "Why does your essay contain the independent topic that I assigned to Mr. Potter?"

"I don't understand," Ron said as he turned red from the anger at being accused. "The topic was about garden worms." The Professor brought the boy's essay to him and the boy glared at the paper. "That is not my handwriting, sir. I don't know what this means, but I'd never do something like this, it's dishonourable." He turned his glare to the man and said, "Sir."

"Indeed," Severus said. "Mr. Potter what would you suggest?"

"How about a '_Trace-Back Spell_'," Harry suggested. "If Weasley is innocent then the spell would trace back to the originator, wouldn't it?"

"Excellent," Snape said. He cast the spell and the light from the spell touched Ron's paper and then tagged another among the rest at the Professor's desk. Finally the spelled was tracked back to the originator of the name switch spell and a student let out a yelped noise of surprise.

"Yipes," Hermione noised and jumped as the spell light hit her.

"Oh," Susan Bones exclaimed. She'd been the other girl's lab partner, but as soon as she saw the glow coming from her seat-mate she slid a couple of inches away.

Everybody was surprised at the result of the spell. Even Harry looked at the girl in shock wondering why she'd do such a thing. Draco looked insulted for his friend and asked in a sneering tone, "It was Granger?"

"It would appear to be," Severus said. "Miss Granger can you explain to us why you'd do such a thing against a fellow student?"

Harry was glared at by the girl and that's when he realized why. "Books," he said. "You did this because of those books at the shop, didn't you?"

"You had no right," Hermione began.

"No, Miss Granger," Severus said. "You had no right to do what you did. It ruined Mr. Potter's and Mr. Weasley's yearly grade."

"Good," she spat out. "His grades were too good anyway and that's suspicious."

"I'm sorry," Harry said. "What do you mean by that?"

"You're grades were too good," she said. "You were ruining my chances for being top of class and you ruined my trip to the book shop."

"She's barmy," Ron said. "All because of some books you couldn't get or graded because he was doing better than you in class?" He shook his head and just said, "Barmy!"

"Well, then it seems that our dilemma is resolved," Severus said. "Your parents will be notified and retrieved to deal with you. Now the question of punishment is usually an immediate deduction of points and a projected detention depending on the outcome of a meeting between you, your Head of House, the Headmaster and your parents, which will determine, detention, suspension or expulsion."

"I rather detention," Hermione said. "You needn't bother my parents for this."

"I didn't say that there was a choice in the matter," Professor Snape said. "Thirty points from Gryffindor per student affected by the deliberate sabotage and use of the name switch spell." He looked at the other students in the class. "Everyone read chapter four of your text and come prepared to brew the '_Burn Balm_'. You should have all the necessary ingredients in your potions kit. Everyone is dismissed, except for you Miss Granger."

"Yes sir," she deflated.

"Severus I thought that we were agreed that thirty points was acceptable for the offence," Professor McGonagall said, as she strode into the room from the potions stockroom where she witnessed everything. "Why has Gryffindor lost a hundred and twenty points?"

Hermione flinched when Ron glared at her.

"I suspect that the way the point deduction was worded, included all students affected by her spell," Professor Snape said casually. He was secretly pleased with the amount of points lost, but was not happy that it was due to this kind of spell. "It seems that there might be three more students that have had the '_Name Switch_' spell cast on their papers."

Professor McGonagall pursed her lips. The names of the affected students would soon appear all the Heads of Houses Points record books. "Miss Granger, follow me," she said. "I've notified the Headmaster that your parents were required for this meeting. Mr. Potter, remain available in case we summon you. Severus your evidence is required."

"Yes ma'am," Harry said.

The buzz was all over the school by the time lunch had arrived. Neville and Draco both went to visit Hagrid to explain why Harry wouldn't be joining the man for tea that afternoon.

Meanwhile Harry was in the General Dorm common room waiting to be summoned. He had been petting and talking to Ivoire and Nox about what had happened today, when the student courier came to fetch him. The third year Hufflepuff told him the following before leaving Harry to stare at a very familiar gargoyle. "You just go on up to see them yah? I only told to bring you here."

Harry nodded and made sure there were no students about. (..._Open_...) He hissed in Parseltongue. The stone looked at him and its eyes gleamed. It moved aside. (..._Can I change the password for myself?_...)

The gargoyle nodded it heavy stone head.

(..._Ivoire and Nox..._) Harry hissed. (..._That will be the only password that is permitted for Harry Potter's use, spoken in either Parseltongue or English..._) The stone gargoyle nodded and once more its gem-like eyes gleamed with some kind of inner magical fire.

(..._Thank you_...) Harry said before he stepped onto the first step of the gently rolling stairs up to the Headmaster's office.

"Come in Mr. Potter," the Headmaster called out to the boy.

"I was asked to be here," Harry said walking into the room with his brimmed Wizard's hat low on his brow. He looked in the room and then he said, "Drs. Granger and Granger, it is good to see you again. I trust everything was slightly easier for you after I had left."

"Young Harry," Dr. Jane Granger (...i...) said. "You were most helpful when we were confused by the book shop's organization methods. Thank you for that." The boy blushed and rubbed the back of his head.

"I'm glad I was able to help," Harry replied.

"Mr. Potter," the Headmaster called for his attention. Everyone turned back to him. "It has come to our attention that your work in potions has been tampered with."

"Yes sir," Harry said. "My essay work had been."

"How did you discover it," the Headmaster asked. He noticed the briefly exchanged glances between his Potions Master and the boy and wondered what would be revealed here. It wouldn't do for the two of them to come to an early understanding.

"I was in detention a few nights ago with Professor Snape," Harry said. "He'd been correcting some class essays and...I can only speculate that the other Professors had been talking about how the new students were faring. He'd asked me why I showed no effort in his class assignments when I seemed to be praised for it in others." He shrugged and then briefly told them the exchange that had occurred. "In the end he requested that I do an independent essay in order to catch the culprit. Everyone in class was shocked by the outcome, to say the least."

"I see," the Headmaster said. "Severus?"

"It is true," Professor Snape told them. "As we do not have access to the students' other papers, where their handwriting could have been analyzed by all, I did accuse this young student of shoddy essay work. I have already apologized to the student and with his collaboration we endeavoured to suss out the truth. We were all, as he'd already stated, shocked by the results."

"Miss Granger," the Headmaster turned to the pale girl seated between her angry parents. "The number of points deducted indicates that the spell you used was not only used against young Mr. Potter, here, but against three other students. Why would you do such a thing?"

Hermione crossed her arms, pursed her lips and glared at the old man's desk.

"Were they doing better than you in class," Dr. John Granger asked his stubborn daughter. He looked to his wife and she nodded to him that that was her conclusion too. He looked to the Headmaster and said, "We will abide by the decision made today."

"Minerva," the old man looked to the girl's Head of House and then he looked to his Potions Master. "Severus, what do the two you suggest?"

"Points, suspension and detention upon her return," Severus stated.

Professor McGonagall pursed her lips, but framing another student and ruining the grades of others were punishable by suspension. "I agree," she said. "Points have already been deducted. I recommend a two-week suspension followed by two-week detention upon her return."

Hermione was horrified. "That's not fair," she said. "The school's charter said that offences of this nature only recommend suspension if it's not the first offence."

"This is _not_ your first offence Miss Granger," Professor Snape informed the girl. "This is your fourth against Mr. Potter. We don't know how long you've been changing the essays for the other three that you've lost points for. Maybe Mr. Potter could hazard a guess, if he's been in classes with those students."

Harry looked at his Professors and asked, "Who were the other students?"

"According to my records I have your name six times, Neville Longbottom twice, Draco Malfoy once and Susan Bones once," the Headmaster said.

"Neville would probably be Herbology class, since he's a Whizz with plants and has had some trouble in the other classes," Harry said thoughtfully. "The only thing I can think with Susan is History of Magic. She takes great notes and had passed all of Professor Binns' tests even above Hermione's scores. I don't know about Draco, though."

"Hm," Professor Snape noised. "He'd excel in something he'd enjoyed. I believe in his case it would be Astronomy." The girl had flinched when Harry had mentioned the other classes and she did so again when the Professor mentioned Astronomy class.

The Headmaster was not happy about this turn of events, but at the very least the poor girl would not be expelled. "The punishment will be as stated by Miss Granger's Head of House," he said. "I'm sorry for this inconvenience Drs Granger and Granger."

"Quite all right," Dr. Jane G. said. "We'll take her with us when we leave the school."

"Can someone escort her back to the school," Dr. John G. asked. "We wouldn't anything to happen to her on the way."

"I will come to get her," Professor McGonagall said. "It's my duty as her Head of House to see that she's delivered safely to and from her home in cases like this. Although it hasn't happened in the past twenty or so years of my tenure that it's a first year that's suspended for something like this. I'm very disappointed Miss Granger."

"We'd appreciate your assistance for a few things while you're with us Professor," Dr. Jane said to the girl's Head of House. "We've read the books that had been recommended to us and request that some safety measures be put in place for all of us."

"Of course," Professor McGonagall said. "Her toiletry bag has been sent for, so we will take our leave now Albus."

The Headmaster nodded his head and stamped a date on the girl's record, "Suspended until October Thirtieth and detention immediately upon return to school. Detention is to commence one hour after the evening meal, to be concluded one to one and one half hour later during the week, three hours Saturday and Sunday. This is to allow Miss Granger the time to catch up her work to her fellow students. A schedule of your detentions will be given to you once you've returned."

"Yes sir," Hermione said. She turned to Harry and said, "This is all, your fault."

"I'm sorry," Harry asked, confused. "What?"

"You should have just left my books alone," she said, as her parents stood her up and marched her to the door. "You should have..." The rest was muffled by the shutting of the door.

Harry looked around the room, but was not any more curious than that. "Will that be all from me Professors?"

"Wait for me at the base of the stair Mr. Potter," Severus told him. "I have a question about one of the references you used in your recent essay."

"Yes sir," Harry said and left when he was dismissed.

"A rotational detention schedule will be ready for Miss Granger," the Headmaster said. "I expect the two of you to come up with something suitable for the child." He was trying to remind them that the girl was still a child.

The Professors nodded and both left the office. Minerva turned to her colleague and said, "Could you please send me a rough draft of your recommendations? I'll review them for when Miss Granger is to return."

"As you wish," Professor Snape said, as he walked towards the waiting Harry Potter for an explanation on a book that he'd never read before.

Harry - James - Potter - Harry - James - Potter

**TBC...**

(...i...) Names for Drs Granger and Granger will appear shortened, at times to avoid confusion and to honour their earned titles, to the following: Dr. Jane G or just Dr. Jane, Dr. John G. or Dr. John.


	10. Chapter 10

**CH 10**

Harry - James - Potter - Harry - James - Potter

The return of Miss Granger was uncelebrated, since the other Gryffindors had been upset when they found out that she cost them one hundred and twenty points by acting in such a non-Gryffindor fashion. Many of them were wishing that she'd chosen to remain unsorted like the rest of the first years, but as it was, the Gryffindors had permitted the second year girls to exact House vengeance on the poor girl.

Her overly large front teeth had provided them with the inspiration of charming the girls ears to look like that of a rabbit's. They were not the cute floppy kind, but the pointed up and get banged by low flying post, delivering Owls kind. The owls at the Gryffindor table had sensed their owner's irritation and had reacted in kind too by letting loose their bowels on the girl's wild and bushy looking hair.

Professor McGonagall had sent notes to the Prefects stating that she would tolerate any further harassment other than what had already been done. She then had them post a list of the girl's punishment on the Common Room bulletin and many of the students agreed that the girl was getting what she deserved in punishment.

Professor Snape had been the one to come up with the majority of the girl's tasks, which McGonagall agreed with. The good Potions Master had decided that the girl should have detentions that reflected an old muggle song called, '_Let the Punishment Fit the Crime_'.

So upon her return to school she had to four types of detentions: clean the potions class, fertilize the greenhouses, polish the telescopes and sort the historical references in the Library by date and by hand. Plus she had a lot of catch up work to do, since she went home without any books to study from.

Snape was quite inventive, toothbrush for desks, potions prep of the foulest smelling ingredients without use of tools so as to not damage the purity of the ingredient. There were a lot of cauldron scrubbing session, of course and then a thorough store room cleaning twice. The second was because _someone_ had accidentally knocked over an ingredient jar that contained dried dung beetle carcasses. The smell of them was invasive should they ever be stepped on and in this case, they had been.

The Astronomy teacher too was quite upset on behalf of her good student, Draco, and the girl soon learned that polishing a telescope once was not enough and the students aided the poor girl by adding weird oil products to their hands when they handled the instruments. As long as none of the telescopes were damaged the Professor allowed that bit of revenge to take place, but only for a short time.

Fertilizing the Greenhouses took place on the Sunday detentions and the Saturday detentions were a mixed bag. One hour in Snape's class, among other detentionees for line writing, one in the Library putting away books by catalogue or card file number and the final cleaning the telescope lenses in soapy water.

By the time that Halloween came around, she'd only been back for a day and was stuck with the dreaded bunny ears. She was due to meet Professor Snape for her detention with him that evening, but all students ignored her presence between the classes. She was alone unless assigned to practice a spell or charm with a fellow student.

Halloween day she'd been paired with her fellow Gryffindor, Ron Weasley, who wasn't predisposed to listen to her advice on how to properly cast the levitation charm. "Pronunciation is important," she told him, as he huffed and refused to listen. "Come on you can do this."

"Why don't you do it then if you're so smart," Ron said. "Go on then, show us poor, ignorant slobs how to pronounce the words."

"Fine," she said. She pulled out her wand and she the words correctly. The feather on her desk floated up in a guided direction.

"Well done Miss Granger," Professor Flitwick said. "Three points to Gryffindor. Now remember everyone the nice easy motions of the wand. It's _Swish and Flick_, and don't forget to use the proper tones." The poor professor was then startled by a small exploding sound nearby and he looked over.

"I think we're going to need a new feather over here Professor," Theodore Nott said, as Seamus' feather had flared up with a popping sound and left the two of them with soot on their faces. The Irishman had no eyebrows left again.

The students walked out of that class and Ron had been complaining loudly about Hermione, who had heard him. She'd been having a difficult time getting to know her fellow students, since her attitude grated on many of the other students' nerves. They didn't care about what she read or memorized for class, they didn't like that she felt the need to prove to them all that she knew best.

However being an emotional eleven year old girl, the words were harsh to hear especially after her petulant revenge against those that had done better that her in some classes. She rushed passed the same crowd and knocked a few of them on the arms. This knocked down some of the books they had been carrying.

Harry sighed and thought, '_How predictable. Making sure that everyone knew she was upset, but it really was her own fault. She should have known how Ron would react, since that's how he reacts whenever anybody else had been assigned to sit with him in that class and does better than him_.'

The evening meal came and with it the odd picture of the stuttering Professor Quirrell running into the Great Hall with a fearful and trembling voice he said, before fainting. "Troll...in the dungeon...thought you ought to know!"

The Boy-Who-Lived didn't even panic. He just shook his head and continued to eat his meal, as those around him panicked at the thought of a monster in the school. The General Dorm students didn't have Prefects so when those were ordered to guide the members of their Houses back to their common rooms. The first years followed his lead and soon there were only twenty-five first year students and no Professors, other than the fainted Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor at their feet, in the Great Hall.

"Not very organized are they," Theodore Nott observed.

"This is probably the safest location at the moment," Draco commented. "They were stupid to move the students through the corridors while that thing was supposedly on the loose."

"Hermione wouldn't know about it," Parvati Patil said to the others. "She was still in the bathroom crying when everyone was ordered to leave the Great Hall."

"Well then I guess we should wake the Professor here, so he can go and help her," Harry said. They looked at him like he was deranged. "What, shouldn't the _Defense Professor_ know how to _Defend _himself against something as basic as Troll?"

The first years agreed and then watched as Harry dumped a pitcher of ice-cold water onto the man's face in order to shock him into reviving. "Hey Professor," he said loudly, while battering the man mentally to get him to wake up. "Wakey, wakey sir," he said. "Maybe I should slap him? That's what muggles do to people who pass out."

At this Professor Quirrell, had to give up pretending his was still unconscious, since it was obvious that more than one child was looking at him. It was also clear that they hadn't followed the Houses out of the Great Hall. "What," he said. "What is going..."

"Hallo there Professor," Harry said cheerfully. "Glad to see that you're back with us. You know fainting like that does not instill much confidence in us to trust your teachings. However you have a student that doesn't know about the Troll and you need to do something about it."

"Whh...w...what," the man in the purple turban said. "Wh..wh...why m..m..mee?"

The collected first years on the Great Hall all looked at him expectantly. "You're the adult," Blaise said. "You should know what to."

"Get someone to look for her, at least," Lavendar Brown said. "She's in danger, if..."

Then they all heard a very loud screeching scream from the corridor.

Harry ran to the Great Hall doors. He looked and saw the girl running towards the doors. "In here, quickly," he yelled. "Everyone to the head table, flip them to form a barricade and make a line behind it," he ordered. He dragged the girl by the arm with him, as he caught her before she ran past a point of getting decent help.

"Ready any kind of damaging spell you know that you can cast successfully, don't argue just do it." He'd run by his Professor and kicked him in the back of the head, saying in an authoritative tone, "Get up off your arse Sir and join us, you should know some kind of spell to stun or kill this thing."

The Troll by this time had noticed that the prey it had been chasing was no longer in front of him. It was then that it noticed the large set of doors with light coming from the opening and the smell of food. It wandered into the Great Hall.

"Aim your wands," Harry ordered the students. Some had listened to him and others were huddled further away from the barricade, but were fully hidden though. He held out his wand and said, "Any spell...steady your aim." His voice and manner calmed them enough that nearly all students were now facing the creature. He shouted, "NOW!"

The poor creature didn't know what hit him, but things certainly did. There were a lot of successfully executed levitation charms that called the schools tableware to rise and attack the beast. Many knives and forks were imbedded into the creature, who truly didn't like that. There were at least three cast spells that were above first year level.

One tripped the troll because it was a spell that used of several benches, rolling them like logs from behind it. Another was something called a '_Reducto_', which some first years knew what it might do based on a Latin translation. The final spell was an old one called '_Invisio Guilloti_', which was basically an invisible guillotine spell. That spell ensured that the Troll was dead.

The Troll's head rolled into the general corridor and that's when some of the Professors and Headmaster re-appeared. They'd arrived just in time to see the head rolling. They'd been shocked to hear from several of the corridor Portraits that the Troll had left the Dungeons and had found its way to the Great Hall.

"Oh my," Professor McGonagall said when she looked into the Great Hall. The barricade of their supper table was the first thing she saw. The next was the row of nearly all the first years, along with Professor Quirrell sitting with his head in his hands at one of the students' House tables.

"Quirinus," the Headmaster said. "What's going on here?"

Draco spoke up for the first years. "You left us here," he said petulantly. "We don't have prefects and you didn't get the Head Boy or Head Girl to escort us to our dorms. We stayed together and Granger here didn't know about the Troll until she met it in the corridors."

"Miss Granger," Professor McGonagall turned to look at the girl with puffy eyes.

"I was in the bathroom and didn't know," the girl in rabbit ears told her. "I came out and was two corridors away when I heard something behind me. I looked behind me, saw that, screamed and ran in this direction. Potter pulled me into the Great Hall."

"H...he then ordered th...the students t...to turn the head table into a barricade," Quirrell continued.

"He also told us to ready any spell that we knew we could cast successfully," Neville said. "Most of us did the levitation charm and used the tableware."

Some of the Professors blanched and turned green at the thought of eating food with the forks and knives that had skewered the Troll. Although they knew that such things are replaced on a near yearly basis due to extenuating circumstances.

"Mr. Potter," the Headmaster turned to the boy and asked. "Where did you learn such a strategy?"

"History of Magic class," Harry answered truthfully. "Bolduc the Brave and his troops were surrounded by enemies in 1078. I can't tell if they'd stupidly or strategically retreated into '_Deadman's Tower_' located on the '_Plains of Ishtal_'. (...i...) During the first wave of attackers, I'd say it was strategic, since they were able to take out several giants by gathering together and casting their spells at the same time. Greater the number of spells cast at the same time, the more successful the chance that they'd be able to take out their enemy."

"But they didn't last," Blaise told him. "They were overwhelmed by their third wave of attackers."

"I know," Harry said. "That's because there was no escape route for them, but we had one, which is why I made you create a barricade at this end of the Hall." He pointed to the three doors at the back of the Hall which would have allowed them to escape. "I was only thinking about the first part of that battle when they killed that first giant and since Professor Quirrell told everyone that there was '_**A**_' troll, I knew we'd only be dealing with only one, if there were more then he'd have said '_Trolls_'... well I should hope he would have anyway."

After that the boy only shrugged and didn't say anything else. The Professors all stared at the children as though they couldn't believe that some would be thinking of battles like this, until their attention was diverted by a question from one of the first year girls.

"Headmaster," Padma Patil asked with dried tears down her face. "Could we go back to our dorms now?"

"Of course, my dear," the Headmaster said. He came out of his momentary shock and said, "Professor Snape could you please see them to their dorm entrance?"

"Yes," Snape said and he turned to motion to the children. "All right come along," the Potions Master said, as he waved at them to move. The first years all joined and followed him to the entrance shield of their dorms. "Food will be delivered to your common room. I suggest that you refreshed yourselves before eating it. We still expect you to show up on time for classes. Miss Granger, follow me," since she was the only student that did not belong to the General Dorms.

"Thank you and good evening Professor Snape," Harry said, as he was the last through the door way.

"Good evening, Mr. Potter," Snape said in a neutral tone. He walked away, as bunny-eared Hermione glanced back in time to see the shield door shut. It made her wish that she'd never been sorted.

Harry - James - Potter - Harry - James - Potter

**TBC...**

(...i...) Completely made up names of tower and location, any resemblance in name to any real or game location is purely coincidental and not intended as duplication or to be considered as originating from this author.


	11. Chapter 11

**CH 11**

Harry - James - Potter - Harry - James - Potter

In the middle of November, the student list was passed around the Great Hall. It was a list that students wrote their names on to indicate that they were not going home for the Holiday vacation, better known as Christmas.

A couple of the Professors were hoping that it would be a student free holiday, but then that's what they hope for every year. It's never happened yet, though. Some students actually preferred to stay at school rather than go home to some gloomy situation. The Headmaster had been surprised when he saw this year's list and young Mr Potter's name was not on it. He shrugged and decided to send the boy the gift he'd prepared anyway.

Harry had been corresponding with his Gringott's Management team throughout the first part of his school year. They eventually managed to have everything squared away and soon he'd been able to liquidate and destroy nearly all of the heinous Dark Assets from the Black Vaults, as well as the Lestrange Vaults. He'd been pleasantly surprised to note that those fell under the Black Family since the main Lestrange Family members were currently incarcerated in Azkaban.

Hufflepuff's Cup was waiting for him in a nearly empty vault. Within the vault there were several sections, each with high protective magics that would never allow the altered artefact from affecting any other in the same vault. So far he'd been able to get the Ravenclaw's Tiara and Gaunt's Ring (without putting it on).

The Diary might have to wait until he was in second year or else for the house-elf Dobby to steal it after it had been given to Ginny Weasley, but before the idiot girl started to write in it. The Locket was something that he could take care of this Yule Holiday. He now had full possession of number twelve Grimmauld Place and it was completely unplottable, but located within a city full of diversions just as he requested his management team to find within his list of empty properties.

Number twelve was just the place that he needed to move into in order to disappear from his Aunt's purview forever. As per the conditions of the note that he'd first taken to Gringotts those few years ago, he knew that he was going to have more freedom to change things. That house needed to be changed and he was just the time-traveler to do it, just not too quickly.

The Horcruxes were being gathered in a centralized location prior to their destruction. Hopefully the Dark Lord won't sense their destruction. He hadn't in the past when Harry had destroyed that diary in his second year. It was very likely that all of those foul devices could be taken care of without the nasty git ever being the wiser about them.

Harry knew that they'd have to be taken care of soon though. So many parts of the same soul in the same location and the Dark Lord might just be able to sense something. Still the boy's scar was useful because he was currently aware of the Dark Lord's thoughts and so far they were all about that stupid Philosopher Stone.

There had been no action on that front, since his friends were not Ron or Hermione this time around, although the girl was beginning to redeem herself by tutoring some of the students in the General Dorms in order to make up for her initial foolishness. However this time Harry was far more aware of something that he'd never noted before or perhaps the truth of the matter was that he'd never paid attention to it since she'd been one of his '_best_' friends. Still the fact of the matter was that the girl was irritating and she was beginning to grate on his last patient nerve.

The train ride back to London was long because she was talking at him, not to him, about school and homework and how he had to complete his studies early and that grades mattered. She didn't know and he didn't enlighten her, but his work had been done months ago.

Regulus Black's old school notes were quite informative and some of the Professors were unoriginal in their curriculum. He'd been able to extrapolate the probable homework, do them quite ahead of time and then only need to make minor changes when the true work was finally assigned. It kept his penmanship skills up and he'd been bored at the time anyway. It was either do that or start writing proper defence book.

The only Professor that he didn't have preset work was for Potions Class and that was all right since he kind of liked the class this time around. '_At least Snape is challenging me,_' he thought. '_Sneaky bastard is slipping me additional essays at different levels to see where I'm at._'

He snickered to himself, since he produced mixed work whenever that happened. Sometimes the work could be considered genius and sometimes it could be considered, as having been produced by a toddler barely able to comprehend the slightest measure or portion of the potion he'd been assigned. He was just playing with the poor man, but he had to do something to keep that man guessing about his true knowledge of some things.

"Are you listening to me," Hermione asked him for nearly the hundredth time, since they boarded the train.

"I stopped after your fourth repetition," Harry stated truthfully. "I'll do my work when I please and I don't need your bloody notes to study. Quit trying to shove them at me and don't you dare force them on any other student either or else I'll report you for a different kind of sabotage." He stared at her and she blushed at having been found out. "Don't you know by now, any notes you give us and state that they are copies are destroyed?"

Hermione glared at him and said, "I work hard on those notes and to make copies for everyone in the General Dorms."

"We don't want them," Harry told her truthfully. "We've told you repeatedly that we don't want or need them and yet for some reason you keep trying to get us to study from them. We're not daft you know. We can tell that half of what you're giving us is hippogriff turd and the other half is just as untrustworthy."

"Why didn't anyone mention…" she began.

"We have," Harry told her. "Did you think we were just joking about it because that would just make you extremely naïve?"

"I had thought that they were starting to trust…m..me," she said tearing up and wondering if that would work against someone that was supposed to be her friend, although if she turned her mind to it, the Boy-Who-Lived had never declared friendship with any of the first years.

Harry turned away from her pleading and tearful looks with a snort. "Not going to work on me," he said. "I know crocodile tears when I see them."

Hermione then kicked the seat in front of her, crossed her arms and pouted silently for the rest of the trip, which unfortunately was more than half over.

Draco, Neville and Blaise, plus most of the first years had selected to sit elsewhere away from '_The Granger_', as they called her. Harry had found his car first and had chosen to allow the girl to sit with him when the trip started out, but now he was sincerely regretting it. Still the built up frustration would help him to expel some serious magical energy and the house was going nearly be gutted from it.

There were sometimes no options left to a Witch or Wizard, if the property they inherit is steeped in Dark Magics. Gutting was an acceptable method of cleaning out the Darkness that can become imbedded into a place. Luckily the townhouse was in a predominantly Muggle area of London and that meant that any local noises like a lorry back-firing or the sound of a low flying plane could be used as the excuse that many Muggles would believe when magical cleansing was about to happen.

Harry planned his days carefully, as there was actually a parade that would be going by that area of town and near the townhouse two days after he fully claimed it. It would be a perfect time for an all out magical cleansing. His management team had the permits and everything was ready. But first he had to get there and convince Kreacher that he was the new Master of the House. The House would obey him, but the aging and nearly insane House-elf was another matter entirely.

He watched as the train neared the platform and sighed in relief as the girl gathered her belongings and raced to beat the other children off the train. Her mother was standing there waiting for the girl and soon they were away. He shrank all of his belongings. He called Rose to handle them for the time being while he made his way through the streets to catch a cab to get to Grimmauld Place.

One final hour later, he paid the cabbie and walked up the lane to number eleven Grimmauld Place, where the hidden magics of number twelve sensed a Master coming home. Number eleven and number thirteen spread exposing the hidden number twelve. As soon as Harry stepped onto any of the two lanes to the Muggle abodes, he disappeared from sight and the whole Muggle World forgot that he'd been dropped off.

In the Wizarding World, he disappeared from the tracking system that Dumbledore had set up. The old man was fully aware that Privet Drive was not unplottable, it was just non-findable by conventional Wizarding methods. So he assumed that the boy was back with is '_loving_' family and did not feel the need to check up on the boy.

Harry opened the door of the townhouse and stepped into a world of dusty, unhealthy gloom and then he muttered, "Well that's going to change immediately."

"Who be ye," a gravelled old voice asked from the shadows just outside of the initial entrance light.

He'd been coached on how to claim ownership and that had to be done before answering any direct questions posed by anything within the house, including the existing staff. The fact was that his next act was the answer that the creature needed anyway.

He took out a small silver and goblin refined '_Lantha_' ore dagger. He carved a rune of home ownership on the palm of both his hands and then quickly placed the bleeding appendages on the first doorway frame of the house. The lane gate did not count, but the main house door did.

"Dorenavent," Harry said in perfect French, which was the native language of the Black Family. "Cette maison et toutes les choses lié à cette maison m'appartient, seulement. Je suis le Maître." Then he hissed it out in Parseltongue to seal the deal and link the house to him and his magics alone. (…_From this day forth. This house and all contents linked to this house belong to me, alone. I am the Master…_)

His magic merged with that of the House and he fought for ownership against the Dark Magics imbedded in the foundation of the place. This was just a minor battle, as the major ownership ritual was going to take place in two days. He needed to do that so that Rose could become the Head Elf for this location, which he was planning to call home for the next few years.

It was a matter of only a few minutes, but the young boy of seemingly eleven years of age, won the first round. The house-elf hidden in the shadow shrieked and ran away. The boy only shrugged and called for Rose. He placed his blooded hands on her duty marks and she was finally able to see the place.

(…Master Harry this place is not fit for you…) She signed with a frown on her face.

"I know," Harry said. "That's why we're going to clean up the kitchen first and the library." He looked at her scandalized face and then explained. "We've a ritual to do, but can only do it in two days when the Ministry permits become valid. Before that time we can clean what we can first and I have something that I need to hunt down in the drawing room and take to the _Vault_, you do know what I'm talking about."

Rose frowned not liking this situation, but nodded her head, since her Master had explained about the magic and the evil inside some particular items. (…What of the other elf in this place?…)

"I will deal with him in my own time," Harry told her. "Just do what you can for the time being. A clean kitchen and the library will be best for us at this point in time. We'll pitch the tent in the library for sleeping in for the next two days. It will help to shield us from the house while we sleep."

She nodded her head, looked in the kitchen and blanched. She looked back at her kind Master with horrified expression at the work she was about to do.

(…Garbage day is tomorrow…) He grinned at her cheekily, as he left her to hunt down the Locket Horcrux. The elf huffed and stepped into the mess, while the Master of the House explored some of the rooms that he hadn't been permitted into in the past.

Harry then let his feet carry him to where the soul piece of the Dark Lord's soul resided. He opened the cabinet and as soon as he had his hand wrapped around it he was attacked by the near insane creature that was once the personal elf of Regulus Black. He kept his hand firmly closed, even after the house-elf latched onto his hand with a vicious bite.

He opened his eyes, which glowed with his inner magics and he said in a gentle soothing tone, "I know why you do not want me to take this," he stared at the startled creature. He cupped the poor things slovenly head and said, "I'm taking over the task that you've been assigned. Let me have it and let go. There is more than just this one that needs to be taken care of, so let me do it right."

Kreacher keened with the need to be of use and this boy who was now his Master was forgiving him through his magics. The house-elf felt a kind of peace settle over him. He let go and asked, "How did yous know?"

"Use your magic and see me," Harry gave the poor thing permission to look at the scar. The house-elf trembled when it realized just who was the Master and he was scared. The boy nodded and said, "I claim your task and I promise to do my best to destroy _HIM_, as your Regulus wanted."

Kreacher had tears in its eyes and nodded.

Harry apparated out of the house and into his Gringott's management team's office closet. They had set that up for him so that he could come and go from his meetings without being detected by the Witches and Wizards that were always on the lookout for the Boy-Who-Live.

"Son of a…" he swore and pulled out a clean handkerchief from his pocket. He wrapped up his hand including the locket.

"Rose," he called out to his primary house-elf. She popped in and gasped silently. "No time. Snowfyre please write this down for me and let Rose take it to Professor Snape at the school."

"Go ahead sir," the female goblin said.

'_Dear Sir,_

_I know that you did not expect to hear from me so soon after having left the school, but I'm in need of medical attention. I was bitten by a near-feral creature and need a potion to stave off infection, a blood replenisher and either a skin grafting potion or something to close the wounds once cleaned._

_Please hand them over to Rose, she's my house-elf or else allow her to bring you to me, but above all do not alert the old goat perched on the seventh floor. If you do this for me, I promise you that I'll translate, free of charge one potion recipe from that book I know you're hoarding from the Restricted Section._

_Harry_

_PS – Don't ask her questions if you cannot understand Sign Language._'

"We could bring you those things," Hardwood said.

"I know, but I want access to that book I discovered," Harry told the goblins. "It's written in Parsel-script and that dungeon bat of Hogwarts is hoarding it. I can't access it, even to produce a copy of it."

"Ah," Ironfist said. "But what of that," he pointed to the locket in his hand.

Harry grinned and said, "I might tell him about it or I might not. In the meantime bring me a Dark Concealment bag."

Griphook left and returned quickly. None of the goblins wanted to touch those particular Dark Artefacts, so they were placed in independent concealment bags that Harry personally took to the vault being used to store them. Just had he put the bag in his pocket his Potions Professor strode into the office following Rose's rushed speed.

"Mr. Potter," he said in a near caustic tone, until he noted the wound. He tsked and then said, "You should have just gone to St. Mungo's."

"Right," Harry said in a sneering tone. "To have them gape at me. Perhaps all rush to heal me and bungle the job. No thanks, I don't trust them."

"And I'm supposed to believe that you trust me," Snape looked at the boy in the eyes.

"You're here aren't you," Harry said.

"I believe it has little to do with trust and more to do with your offer," the Potions Master said. "You promise to do the translation?"

"Of course," Harry said with grimace as the man flushed the bite marks with a slightly bubbling potion and then gently wrapped up the wound. "On my mother's honour, I promise," he sighed as the throbbing in the wound eased up. "Thank you sir."

Severus was about to hand the boy the book and then asked, "Why your mother's honour and not your father's?"

"Don't know my father," Harry told him evenly and truthfully. "I know more about my mother just by the fact that she gave up her life for me."

"You're father did the same," Severus told him.

Harry looked away and then said, "He told her to take me away and run." He paused and then fingered his scar. "I can feel her sometimes, so I know more about her than I do him, just by these feelings I have." He looked at the man who was stunned by what he'd heard.

"You…remember… that night," the man asked.

"It's just a nasty dream that I sometimes get," Harry said. "Don't worry sir, there's no value in it other than the fact that I know my mother loved me, despite the lies that had been told."

"Lies," Severus asked. "Who lied to you?"

"It doesn't matter now," he looked at his bandaged hand and said, "Thank you for this sir."

The Potions Master wasn't a spy for nothing. He knew perfectly well where he was and what his eyes were taking in while he talked to the Boy-Who-Lived. However he wasn't about to breath a word of this to anyone. He took out the infamous little book called, '_Poshuns & Kures: A treatise of the Ten Most Popular of 238 B.C. by Salazar Slytherin_'.

He handed the book to the boy and said, "I want the entire section dedicated to Werewolves."

"Yes sir," Harry said, as he took the book and hid it in the pocket of his robes.

"I'll see you back at school in January," Severus told the boy. He then handed a small potions satchel to Rose and said, "Extra cleaner and dressings for the wounds. If you run out, come to me and I'll replenish it. There is also a fever reducer in there and a couple of '_Children's Dreamless Sleep_' too, just in case. Only half of those are to be taken, if he has trouble falling asleep. They're portions are limited just in case there is an adverse reaction to any of these, come and get me no matter what, if there is a reaction. Understood?"

Rose nodded and the man left them to their business. She looked at her master and asked. (…Was it safe to let him know about this?…)

"Yes," Harry nodded. "That man was a spy for the Light. He feels the need to atone for a bad decision he'd made when he was younger and we are going to let him do it. He'd never harm me because of my mother." He then looked at Griphook and said, "We need to go to the Vault and then I need to return home in order to strengthen the wards. Can't have the Ministry finding me, now can I?"

Harry - James - Potter - Harry - James - Potter

Two days later the streets of London were filled the joy and merrymaking of the season. The magical permits and exceptions from the Ministry of Magic were in full force. As long as the townhouse made comparative noises and flashes of light without causing the Muggles to panic because something unnatural was occurring, then the Ritual of the New Home Owner could be done.

This ritual was not easy to do, because it did require a level of adult magic that was difficult for any child to manipulate. Unless that child's magical channels had been forcibly opened at an age too early to be considered reasonable. Not many could handle the consequences, however becoming the vessel for a portion of someone else's soul, helped the Boy-Who-Lived to harness his abilities.

Again the memories of the three hundred plus years of the old prisoner, helped too. His knowledge and instinctual abilities were key to changing the wards, upgrading the security of the place and it ensured that the entire time that the Ritual took place, the townhouse could still never be traced or plotted on any map. His pent up feelings and frustrations were used to gut the house of its Dark Magical Influence and the spray of magical light into a festival night air. It allowed a complete cleansing to be done.

Harry lied down inside the circle of power that he'd called up and smiled. The house belonged to him now. If he chose, now, to free his godfather from that same prison, then the man would have a truly safe house to protect and heal him. He sighed at the thoughts of lost or wasted time because Pettigrew had gotten away from them in his third year.

The Dark Lord only truly returned when Crouch Jr. had escaped his father's clutches. '_I don't know what Pettigrew was doing during my third and fourth year,_' he thought. '_But I can bet that he'd been hiding out most of the time or perhaps he'd been hunting down the ghost and the snake._'

Number twelve Grimmauld Place was now a magical edifice of a strong decidedly neutral magical alignment. It was as though no family had been living there, leaving their magical footprints on the place for years.

"Rose," Harry croaked out in his thirsty, ritual induced voice. "Kreacher," he called to the true house-elf of the place. The two popped into the still slightly glowing room. They fully realized then just how powerful their Master was. Rose had suspected this long before now, but Kreacher was shivering in fear because he'd bitten the boy a couple of days ago hadn't even punished himself for being bad.

"Enough Kreacher," Harry said. "No elf, bonded to my Family is permitted to do harm to another or themselves. I've forgiven you for this small wound because I know the pain that you were in made it difficult to see another path." He sat up and then opened the magical circle, effectively cancelling the seals and letting more of his magic mix with the House now that it was slowly coming back to life.

He allowed them to get him to bed. They tucked him in with their unique form of magic and his two snakes slithered into bed with him to share his magic and warmth. "This will become a fun house," he told them. "First we clean things and those portraits that wish retire," he yawned. "We'll make a true gallery from one of the larger rooms. Maybe the Master bedroom, since I don't want to sleep in there."

The two elves looked at each other and nodded. That was a good place to start. The cleaning could be done in a shorter time frame with the two of them.

"Guys," Harry called out. "When I wake up can we decorate a tree and put it in the middle of the ballroom, I've always wanted…to…decorate," his voice slowed down and his mind was drifting, but he did manage to get out the final part. "A…Christmas…Tree."

Rose nearly cried right then because she knew how her Master had been treated. Kreacher looked at the hybrid and wondered why she never talked. He listened to her unspoken directions to let their Master sleep. She then pulled out a pad of paper, charmed a quill to write for her and then she explained the house-elf's new bonds that were there on his upper arms just like hers were.

"_He uses new and old magics,_" she started to explain fingering the golden bands that had formed above and below her original bond marks. "_He's not like any other Master. The bond marks indicate that you are now a member of the Potter Family._"

Kreacher looked at his bands and noticed that his were similar to Rose's. Only he didn't have the gold bands. "You are the Head Elf," he said, using his own instinctive elf memory. "You'll need to teach me to understand that language you use to speak to the Master."

Rose nodded and then she told the other house-elf a bit of how she came to be in the service of her Master, while making a list of things to get in order to help their Master put of his first Christmas Tree.

Harry - James - Potter - Harry - James - Potter

**TBC...**


	12. Chapter 12

**CH 12**

Harry - James - Potter - Harry - James - Potter

The return trip to school was more fun this time around for Harry since he wasn't sitting alone with Hermione. He'd chosen a car and then charmed it to repel certain magical signatures. It kept her and most of the girls from entering, but didn't stop Neville, Draco, Theodore, Terry and Blaise from filling up the car. They exchanged Christmas Stories, the horrors of having to do homework during their holiday time and of course they talked of the gifts that they'd received and which ones were the coolest or most wicked of the bunch.

There was one gift that Harry didn't bother to mention to anyone else, since it had been something that had once belonged to his father. Receiving it during a holiday somehow cheapened the feeling of wonder about it. '_Use it well_,' he thought of the note. '_What a manipulative bastard? He wants me to use it so that he can see where I'd been in the school because of the tracing spell he's placed on it. As if I do something so stupid to something so priceless. Luck thing I left it at home and safely stored away._'

Harry smirked as he looked out of the window. Grimmauld's Library had been a trove of hidden books and funnily enough he'd stumbled across a very rare copy of the ' _Invisible Book of Invisibility_'. It contained tips and tricks to charm objects to track invisible people or how to reveal them. It even contained a section on which creatures could provide the magical fur or wool needed to create special, '_Invisibility_' type clothing. There was even a section on potions that induced invisibility or similar effects like the '_Shrouding Potion_'.

"Oi Potter," Draco called out to him. "Want anything off the trolly?"

"What," Harry said and turned to see the cart lady at the door.

"Anything off the trolly dear," she asked.

"Yes please," Harry said. "Four boxes of chocolate frogs and two green licorice wands. Thank you ma'am." He gave her the coin she asked for and he returned to his friends, storing the candy away.

Harry - James - Potter - Harry - James - Potter

That first night back he felt the compulsion that Dumbledore had cast on him. Although the thought of using his father's cloak was impossible since it wasn't in the school, his body still felt the need to wander around after hours for a couple of hours past curfew. He could have ignored it. Just like he used to do against the Imperious Spell from his old past. However the Boy-Who-Lived suspected that the old manipulator needed to be sure that the boy he was supposed to be would encounter the blasted '_Mirror of Erised_'.

Harry sighed when he spotted it and felt the compulsion grow a bit stronger in order to drive his curiosity about the object. He was actually afraid to approach it. His secret desire…well he wasn't so sure what it would be. He hoped that it would still be for family to be around him.

He approached the mirror slowly and the fog within swirled until he was faced with his mother and father looking back at him. He was overwhelmed at that very moment and tears started to fall. He came closer and whispered, "I'm sorry. I'm so very sorry."

'_That was just too cruel,_' he thought. He blinked, wiped his eyes and then with seeming great difficulty he walked away. '_Got to make it look good for the old twinkling fool. I see you, you arrogant sod, don't think I don't know you're in that far corner_.'

He had to do this a few more times without being under a magic compulsion to do it. It was then that the Headmaster told him that it was not good to live in dreams and that he should go outside. He was told that he needed to enjoy his time the world. He'd been warned that the Mirror would be moved and not to seek it out.

Harry nodded like the good boy he was pretending to be and said, "Yes sir."

"Very well," the old man said. "Off you go to bed then."

"Yes sir," Harry said. He left the old man there convinced that he'd eventually seek out the Philosopher Stone and go through the supposedly '_deadly_' trials for it. '_That takes care of that,_' he thought relieved that he didn't have to do that sickly, pathetic bit of acting again. '_I have a Basilisk to talk to now._'

Harry - James - Potter - Harry - James - Potter

Around mid-march things were warming up out of doors and in doors too. Exams were being prepared for and nearly every week in regular classes the students were revising and at the same time learning a few new things.

Harry had found a charm that would create a mirrored effect on any stone wall and that's just what he used to bribe the Basilisk for some of his venom and his shed skin. He'd been on his own during a couple of week-ends when his friends had found themselves in detention, so he explored '_Moaning Myrtle's_' bathroom when he knew that the ghost was not there.

The Basilisk was friendly enough, but his attitude was exactly like what Aragog's had been. (…_Don't mind when food visits me. I get little enough, as it is to survive down here…_) It had hissed. (…_Sorry child, but I'm just too hungry to ignore your presence…_)

Harry had never been so glad in his life to have been given the ability to speak Parseltongue. (…_Stop, I can open the passage to the forest for you, you'll get a lot more food than just little me…_)

This had stopped the humungous snake's attack. (…_What was that little prey?…_)

(…_I can clear out the back passage and charm the area to attract the local spiders, the big ones…_) Harry had told the snake. (…_I know that you prefer live prey therefore I'm also willing to charm the walls of the entrance to be mirrored. Spiders have multi-faceted eyes and if you were to look at them indirectly, you'd be able to petrify them. They'd still be alive for whenever you're ready to eat them…_)

(…_We shall test your theory, little prey…_) The Basilisk told him at the time. (…_If I'm satisfied with the situation and the food I'll call to you from the pipes. You're the only Snake Speaker in the school now I take it…_)

(…_Yes…_) Harry had told the snake. (…_The last Speaker you might have encountered about fifty years ago is far older than I and has done something to endanger his soul…_)

(…_Ah, so he did split it…_) The Basilisk had stated. (…_I told that one he was an idiot to be thinking of such a thing. Splitting your soul like that takes away the reasoning and parts of who you are. What a shame, he was such a strangely interesting fellow too!…_)

(…_Interesting how?…_) Harry had been curious and since the snake was talking, it wasn't eating. He'd been guided through the tunnels to the caved in rear entrance. He used many spells to clear the debris and to shore up the tunnels. He created a barrier ward at both ends of the tunnel and then he did the mirror charm to the walls.

(…_He'd always be asking about some Salazar fellow…_) The Snake had said as it watched Harry work. It could sense the food just beyond the barrier that prevented him from leaving the tunnels. (…_Told him I never knew that bloke, but that I did know some female of his species and that I could talk about her, if he wanted…_)

(…_He'd then say he only wanted to speak about the __**Greatest of the Hogwarts Four**__, whatever that meant…_) The Basilisk said. (…_Everyone knows that the Greatest of the Four was Miss Rowena and that she was the one that had built this chamber for my mother. I'll never know how that great ugly stone face appeared, but I have a feeling that it was all the doing of that strange boy_…)

Harry stopped what he'd been doing and had to reflect on what he'd just heard. (…_You mean to tell me that Rowena could speak to snakes too…_)

(…_Of course…_) The Snake had told him. (…_She was the one that discovered the way to change the animal speech potion to reflect only one species or so mother told me. She'd hid her original formulas for it though. Too dangerous she said when her children started being born with the skill to speak to various animals. Her friend Salazar fiddled with it and turned the whole thing to mush…_)

(…_Unbelievable…_) Harry had commented. (…_We're missing so much of our history and just from listening to you my perspectives have changed. If you're pulling my leg, I'm not going to be very happy about it…_)

(…_I can show you her workroom_…) The giant snake had told him. (…_But only after I eat something that can satisfy me_…)

(…_All right then_…) Harry had said and then did the final charm to the back entrance. (…_That large boulder by the entrance is charmed so that if you touch it with your tail once, it will activate the siren that will call the spiders here. Touch it twice and it will turn off the call_…)

(…_Interesting…_) The snake had said. (…_I will test it now and you will stay with me until the first three are through the barrier…_)

(…_You might want to move away for a bit…_) Harry had told him. (…_They'll smell you and won't want to enter. I did cover up your scent and presence the best I could, but they might still be cautious of this area…_)

The Basilisk was pleased when five mid-to-large sized Acromantulas entered the place and were petrified in place because of the mirrors. The snake touched the stone twice and the call for the spiders stopped. (…_I am pleased with this…_) The snake had told him. (…_Go away, I'll call you to me from the pipes, when I'm ready to aid you. Only then will I show you the location of the workroom_…)

It was a about a month later when Harry heard the snake calling to him, to come down for a visit.

(…_Hallo Snake_…) Harry said to the Basilisk. (…_You wanted to see me and not for food, I hope_…)

(…_Indeed_…) The large creature said. (…_Please call me Serasha, it's what my mother named me when I was still in my shell_…)

(…_Interesting name_…) Harry said. (…_My name's Harry_…)

(…_Likewise with your name…interesting_…) Serasha said. (…_I called you down because I'm running out of room_…)

(…_I'm sorry_…) Harry said. (…_I don't understand_…)

(…_I'm a snake, you know, so we don't digest bone_…) Serasha told him and lead him to a cave some distance from the entrance of petrified spiders. The cave contained the all the regurgitated shells and whole carapaces of the large magical insects.

(…_Well_…) Harry said in a surprised tone. (…_Luck is on my side_…)

(…_What are you talking about?_…) Serasha asked.

(…_Goblins pay for whole and partial shells of Acromantulas, but those are hard to come by_…) He told the snake. (…_I could gain a lot of gold from this hoard of carcasses alone and my management team at the Bank had just informed me that the goblins were looking for something like this_…)

(…_I don't care what you do with them, just find a way to get rid of them_…) The Basilisk told him. (…_If they want to trade in meat they can_…)

Harry paused and thought about something else too. (…Please cover your eyes, I'm about to call my house-elf and they are not to become food for you…)

(…Too small anyway…) The snake told him while it curled in on itself and tucked its head inside his coiled scales.

"Kreacher and Rose," he called to his bonded elves. The poor things trembled when they saw the mass of warm scales nearby. "I need ideas here and quick ones. Rose can you go get Ravenbolt for me, he'll be needed too." The hybrid popped away to do her Master's bidding.

"Kreacher, could you fetch me about ten cattle from the Black Ranch," Harry said. "Just put them in stasis and leave them among the petrified spiders over there." Kreacher bowed and popped away just as Rose popped back with the goblin.

(…Create a combination of a safe popping zone and a portal that uses either house-elf magic or goblin magic linked only to those bonded to you…) She signed quickly. (…May I leave now?…)

Harry nodded and then turned to Ravenbolt, who was wide-eyed and slightly shocked at where he was at the moment. "Ravenbolt," he said to the goblin to get his attention. "Did you get any of that?"

"Combo area safe for popping and a portal," the goblin said.

"How about here at the edge of the entrance to this chamber," Harry suggested. "We can create a protective hut that will allow you to come and get these shells and carapaces."

Ravenbolt's eyes widened as he realized that this was a huge money making deal. "We'd need to arrange something. The Goblin Nation would gladly take over the care of this room to ensure that it was properly cleaned, if that's what's going on here."

"Snake regurgitate bones," Harry explained. "I think technically that this is the closest he could come to without leaving the school."

"Why not let him leave the school," Ravenbolt asked, as the old house-elf popped back into the room, but the cows were in status next to the petrified Acromantulas in the tunnel.

"He's bonded to the school and there are barriers to prevent him from leaving," Harry told the goblin, as he nodded to let Kreacher know that he could leave, which the house-elf gratefully did. "He'd be hunted if he was allowed to roam the Forbidden Forest."

"Understood," Ravenbolt said. "But what do we do about this? Not many would want to come here and take away the shells and bones unless there was some kind of hazard pay. Magical protection would be required too."

"That's why I sent for you," the boy told the goblin. "I need ideas, which include whether you know of someone willing to do the job or not."

"We can do it first and that way set up safety procedures," the goblin said. He then had a good look at the petrified spiders and noticed that the boulder by the entrance was charmed. "What does that do?"

"It calls to the spiders in the forest and they come through the barrier," Harry explained. "It's activated by touch of the snake's tail. That way he had control of his food intake." The goblin nodded and then the boy further explained, "I came down a month ago and based the number of shells now, I think he'd been starving for a while."

"Ah," Ravenbolt said. "If we set up a hut with a fenced ring, the ring could act like a portal to ship or port the carcasses. We'd need to set up a Vault or another place to send them too in order to sort the pieces. Also if there was a touch stone that could put up and take down a barrier to stop him from entering the room while someone was in here working in it to clean up, we'd be more successful in getting someone hired."

"Good plan," Harry said. "We'll use the largest of the shells to create the popping hut. The touch stone can be inside the hut and linked to the entrance." He paused and then said, "We could just set up a port ring for this entire room, no?"

"No," the goblin told him. "If you did that, then even he'd be sent to another place. It's better and easier to control what gets sent if the porting ring was smaller."

"I understand," Harry said. He used a few building spells to form a three sided hut against the wall, just to the left of the entrance of the throw up room.

The goblin used several specialized spells for security and he was the one that place a large shell roof on top. The touchstone was placed just inside the hut and the boy used a similar spell to ensure that the goblin barrier rose and fell on a similar pattern to the spider's siren stone. Together they used the legs of the dead spiders to make the porting ring and to erect the barrier arch that anchored the goblin's barrier spell to the room.

"We need to get rid of the rest of these first," Harry told the goblin. "He called to me from the school's pipes for it."

"Interesting," Ravenbolt said. He looked at his employer and asked, "What of the creatures shed skin?"

Harry blinked and then grinned, "We discuss that at a later date. For now take shells from here and send them to the empty magical warehouse I own, at the Galway Docks in Plymouth. It might be easier to hire the locals to sort the shells from there, once we have a routine or procedure set up."

"Good idea," Ravenbolt agreed. "Don't put them in a Vault if you don't want the Head of Gringotts to make an offer." The boy nodded and watched the goblin set up the coordinates to the warehouse. "Have your old elf go there to make sure that they arrive in one piece and that the warehouse is clear."

"Kreacher," Harry called the house-elf and told him what was expected. "Just signal through your bond to me if everything is working fine." A couple of tests later and that chamber was emptied of the carcasses.

"We'll run a few potentials through a screening process for trustworthiness," Ravenbolt told the boy.

"Set up another company," Harry said. "Call it '_Buyers, Finders & Suppliers_'. It'll be a very small semi-dummy corporation where honest people seeking something could come to us in order to find whatever it is they want, within reason of course. Use that name in order to get some employees to begin working here and at the warehouse. It's a good place to start. Tell the team that I'll them after this school is over."

Ravenbolt nodded and the left when there were no more Acromantula shells, legs or bones in the chamber.

(…_It's done_…) Harry said and then he explained the set-up for the cleaning of the chamber.

(…_Wonderful_…) Serasha said. (…_Follow me_…) The creature led him through a couple of the tunnels to a door. (…_Open to me, oh Rowena, Greatest of the Hogwarts Four…_) The door opened and the boy was shocked by the password.

(…_Is that always the password?_…) He asked out of curiosity.

(…_Yes_…) The Basilisk replied. (…_It's why that boy could never enter. He never listened to me. There might not be much in there, but whatever there is, it is yours. You're are also permitted my shed skins and the venom you seek_…)

(…_I thank you_…) Harry said. He extracted the venom into two large crystal jars that he'd kept by him in case the snake ever granted his request. He knew that there'd be a lot available.

(…_Likewise, for the food and the cleaning of that chamber_…) Serasha told him. The snake slithered away, but not before saying, (…_Come back and visit me from time to time, little prey. I've missed talking to real people_…)

(…_As you wish_…) Harry replied, before he opened the door to a somewhat clean and dust free room. He wasn't surprised, since the room appeared to have been sealed and a sealed place like this gathers no dust.

The room was not a large one and in fact it really looked like an old fashioned kitchen. There were two cabinets or hutches, one that looked to be holding various sets of dishes and the other that looked to be holding different sizes of spice jars. The large fireplace had an old swing out, swing in thing that had a huge cauldron.

The room contained a sink with an old hand pump, as a tap. The counter space contained a marbled and lacquered looking top, but the whole room despite looking like a kitchen was actually an ancient potions lab.

Harry had that confirmed by the books in hutches because they all contained various recipes for different '_Kures in Poshuns_', as the notes stated. The books were varied, but he noted that some of the spaces in the shelves were quite empty.

'_I wonder what book they contain,_' he thought. '_Text references maybe, but here's one that looks interesting!_' What he pulled out was a drawing book of localized plant life with a list of their properties in notations beside them. The format was similar to one of the books recommended for their first year of potions. The drawings were what drew him to the book more than the notations.

'_I have been getting bored for a while,_' Harry continued his thoughts. '_I think that this would be an interesting project to begin. A complete workbook of fully studied plants or potions ingredients that I've handled during my first year of school, yes I believe that will be a good summer project for me._'

He called for Rose to come to him and signed. (…Go to Griphook and get one of the empty trunks from my vaults, make sure it's one that can handle potion ingredient, so also make sure that there are strong preservation spells on it and for every compartment, if it multi-compartmented…)

Rose nodded her head and popped away. She came back quickly and the goblin came with her in order to inspect the room.

"Griphook," Harry said. "Glad you're here. I want all ingredients, books and tools to be store in that preserved Vault that we set up last year. You two do this, but don't leave until I've brought you the extra skins from Serasha." He left them.

(...Who's Serasha?…) Griphook signed to Rose.

The house-elf shuddered. The answer had surprised the goblin. (…The Basilisk living in these tunnels…)

Harry came back about half an hour later with different piles of skins. The Basilisk had helped him to sort them by age and by gender as some used to belong to his mother. They were bundled within a couple of the broken skins and on the top of each pile was a note indicating approximate age and gender.

"Here Griphook," he said. "Only take three sets from the five smallest piles and one of the largest to store in the Vault. I want to know if anyone will notice or if someone it monitoring my. Leave the rest in here until I can set up one of my properties as a preserved storage for the rest of these. Can't have everyone knowing that these are available to me, now can I?"

He kept the venom and that one book. Then he said, "See you at home Rose. I'll meet with you later Griphook. See if you and the team can set up one of my homes as a preservation place so that no all of this stuff is stored at one place."

Griphook nodded and took away the skins.

Rose hugged him before she popped away, saying, (…Be careful, young Master…)

"I promise to do my best," Harry told her. He'd been able to return to the General Dorm without much fuss from his friends, since most were in the library studying, still. His own homework and studies had already been completed.

Harry - James - Potter - Harry - James - Potter

**TBC...**


	13. Chapter 13

**CH 13**

Harry - James - Potter - Harry - James - Potter

The year-end exams loomed on the horizon and many a student, at Hogwarts, were having various nightmares about it, except one. This one exception crept through the silent halls and had made their way to the '_extremely painful death, on third floor corridor_' part of the school.

Harry Potter had trusted his instincts more that his memories for this caper. He'd already decided to go after the stone before even Quirrell did or before the Headmaster left the school on some phoney pretence. He'd gotten a Neutral Artefact Concealment bag from his Gringotts management team. They'd had been the ones to explain to him the differences between the bags he'd been using.

They were called: Dark Artefact Concealment, Light Artefact Concealment or Neutral Artefact Concealment bags and were made available to hide certain Family Artefacts against seizure from the Ministry of Magic. They were to be used whenever a new Law or Bill was passed that banned such heirlooms. That had certainly explained to Harry, how that Ministry toadying bitch Delores Umbridge, in his past life, had been able to hide that blasted '_Blood Quill_' at the school for so long.

However at the moment, he used some of the invisibility tricks he'd learned and was able to by-pass the three headed dog, affectionately known as '_Fluffy_' by its owner, Hagrid. The dog had been curled up in a corner of the room with its back to the door, which allowed the boy to drop through the trap door quietly and easily.

As he dropped onto the vines of the Devil's Snare plant, some of his old memories popped up. The funniest had been Hermione's exclamation of finding wood to start a fire and Ron's comment of '_Are you a witch or not?_' This time around, Harry had called forth a tongue of flames that allowed him to drop through the green cradling roots and vines of the man-eating plant.

He never bothered with a light since the walls had some kind of phosphor on them to gently guide the way. Fluttering sounds were what he encountered further down the passage. He'd been curious about something, so instead of immediately mounting the stationary brooms he called out, "Accio Key".

He poured his intent on magically seeking only the one key, separate from the others, that would fit the old-fashioned door blocking the way to the next challenge. He sighed and thought, '_Oh yeah, these challenges were really designed to keep people away._'

The key came to him without disturbing the others. It flew into the door's lock. He turned the key gently so as to not damage the magically charmed wings and was quickly through the door. The other keys hadn't even been alerted to his presence and the key used fluttered back into the flying other keys. '_That was too easy, I wonder when they were actually programmed for attacking._'

The next chamber had him groaning and mentally cursing. He never liked chess all that much. Still with all the mental challenges that he'd done to occupy his time in prison, he'd at least managed to master the game. He slowly worked his way across the board and soon the White King of the set acknowledged its defeat. Before the boy left the room, he'd cast a spell that reset the entire chessmen, undamaged, and back into their proper positions, in order to make it look like no one had gone through the room.

The Troll in the following room had been dead in his past life, but this time it was still alive. However, a bit of luck was with him and he'd been able to quickly step past it, as though he'd been successful in the challenge.

The next to last challenge had belonged to the Potions Master. Again, Harry'd had the time to study up on whatever he wanted to while in that blasted tower cell, so he'd been able to reproduce the potions that would allow a person to walk through the flame barriers of this room. There had been no need to even glance at the parchment on the small table or panic about the various potions vials waiting to be taken by non-logical individuals.

Harry slowly looked around the room that contained the now supposedly hidden '_Mirror of Erised_'. He noted the nooks and crannies of the place. '_Dumbledore had to have been concealed in this room the last time I had done this,_' he thought. '_There,_' he noted an adult sized alcove on the other side of the room. '_He'd had front row seats to Quirrell's bungled attempt and hadn't once bothered to save me, until the last minute._'

He used a few spell detection charms to find out if anything in the room was going to be traced. Nothing had been revealed. So, he approached the mirror and again it worked the way it had the previous time. He saw the reflection of a boy who looked like him hold out the stone and then put it back into his pants pocket. He moved quickly and ensured that the stone was strategically placed inside the neutral artefact concealment bag that he'd been carrying around for just this purpose.

Harry then took the house-elf passageway that he'd known was nearby in order to return to his dorm room and bed. He changed his clothing and called for Rose to come take the bag back the Grimmauld Place. She hid it in a secret place in the house that only the Master of the House would have access to.

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A few weeks later, "That exam wasn't too difficult," Draco said, as they walked out of the potions exam. It was their last exam for the year. "How do you guys think you did?"

"I liked it," Harry told them. "It was challenging."

Inwardly he giggled because knew he was going to be receiving a letter, either shortly or sometime this coming summer, from his Potions Master demanding to know the sources of his information for the bonus question. Although to be honest the bonus question on Harry's potions exam was entirely different from that of his fellow first years.

"You would," Neville commented. "I think you like getting mixed marks in that class on purpose."

The Potions Master had caught that last bit of the conversation and wondered the same thing, especially when the boy answered, "Maybe."

'_Cheeky little brat,_' the man thought. '_Now do I mark his exam first or last._' He returned to the classroom to put away the first year supplies and to set up the room for the four, year students.

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Not long after the last exam and before the end of the year speech the Professor in charge of the Defence Against the Darks Arts class was confined to a secluded room in the Infirmary. The man had blinding headaches several times throughout the year and now that the last of his students had written his exams, the headache was unbearable.

"I don't understand this," Poppy Pomfrey told the Headmaster. "He refuses to let me do a deep scan and he knows that I can't provide anything for the pain until he does."

"Odd," the old man commented. "Perhaps you should contact St. Mungo's to get some assistance with him."

Poppy had only shook her head at the foolishness of men and their need to be stoic in the face of pain. She hadn't been aware that the true reason was that the man she'd once known as Quirinus Quirrell was an agent of the Dark Lord.

The Headmaster may have suspected something of that nature, but had not investigated it. The medi-witch and the old man had left the poor Defence Professor along.

Later that night the man that Quinius had once been was under a different type of pressure, as well as pain. The parasite on the back of the man's head had begun to panic. "You fool," the Dark Lord hissed. "You were supposed to go after the stone, what happened?"

"I couldn't get it," the man whimpered at the doubly painful throb in his head. "There was a trick to it, but I couldn't figure out how to get past that blasted mirror."

"Giggle," a child's voice sounded inside the room. "Oops, forgot I was hiding."

Quirinus looked in the corner by the door to his private room and was shocked that Harry Potter was standing with quite an evil looking grin on his innocent seeming features. The boy shrugged at the man's surprised expression and then he held up a doll for the man to see.

"What is that," the Defence Professor asked.

"Can't see," Harry asked and then walked up closer for the man to notice the doll that looked almost to be an exact duplicate of himself, only it wasn't wearing a turban. "Better now?"

"What…what…is…"

"Voodoo-type magic," Harry told him casually. "It's actually called Cursed Effigy Magic and can cause an echoing pain when I do something like this." He pulled out a long old-fashioned hatpin and slid it into the doll's forehead.

The Professor screamed in pain. The man had been surprised to note that no one had heard him. The he looked at the boy and asked, "Silencing Spell?"

"Of course," Harry told the man. "Can't have your dying screams wake up the castle, can we?"

"What do you mean, dying," Quirrell asked.

"Poppy called the hospital and you're going to receive a full body scan tomorrow," Harry said. "I overheard her when I visited a fellow student. So you're going to die before the night is through because this," he twisted the doll around to show a snake faced image on the back of the doll's head. "Is going to be what kills you!"

"So you know," Voldemort hissed and Quirrell's neck turned so that the attachment faced the boy. The red eyes widened as another pin slide into the doll between the red eyes of the doll's own little attached parasite. "I will kill you Har…ry Pot…ter," the Dark Lord told him. "I will…"

Harry took out another pin and pierced the eye of the doll Voldemort and then he said, "You can certainly try."

Quirrell's body lifted off the bed and was about to attack when suddenly the man's arm was instantly broken as Harry broke the doll's arm. "Stop that," the man shrieked out. "ARRGH!"

Harry moved away from the bed and then slammed the doll with Voldemort's face into the hard stone wall of the school. He played with that with all the cruelty of a child, intent on destroying a particular toy. Nightmares of his first life fuelled the viciousness that the boy displayed and the portion of the soul that had been attached to the other man, lifted away.

It tried to attach the boy, but it was obvious that the boy had been shielded since entering the room. The spirit shouted out, "I'll be back to kill you Harry Potter."

"You can try," Harry had whispered into the night. He touched Quirrell's broken body and the protection spell that his mother had done, did its job. The man's body turned to ash. He left the room after that, leaving the effigy toy behind.

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Rumours of the Defence Professor's death were varied and grew wilder by the end of the school year. The Headmaster stood up and made a general speech about the end of the school year, how he hoped that everyone would have a good summer and how magic was not to be practiced, due to the under age magic use laws.

"We now congratulate Ravenclaw House for winning the House Cup," he told them. The children all clapped for them, especially the first years. "We congratulate Slytherin House on their success at maintaining possession of Hogwarts' Quidditch Cup." Again the first years clapped for the House that had won, which had surprised the Slytherin students. "I wish you all a good summer holiday."

The students rose from their tables, exited the school in a semi-orderly fashion and went to the train station in Hogsmeade in order to catch the old Red Steam Engine train that would take them all home for the summer.

At the platform nine and three quarters, several of the students promised others that they write and keep in touch. Harry received the same invitations and for the first time he was at peace with some of his nightmares, since this time around he'd been the one in control of what had happened.

'_Now all I have to do is get a hold of that Diary before something happens to Serasha,_' Harry thought about the Basilisk. He sincerely hoped that the creature wouldn't die at the end of his second year this time around.

However that is another story for another time!

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**END**

(…Final note…) This is the true end of another odd "What if" tale. I know that I possibly left some unanswered question. But at this point in time I believe that I'll leave the rest up to your imagination and hopefully it will inspire someone else to write a "What if" of a different nature.

Hope you all enjoyed this foray into a "Alternate Year One" genre, which included a back-in-time thing, plus a Harry-went-to-Azkaban and he got free through some unique circumstance.

Lil Nezumi


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